


A Good Thing

by SONeill13



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Mand'alor (Star Wars), Planet Mandalore (Star Wars), Planet Nevarro (Star Wars), Planet Sorgan (Star Wars), The Mandalorian Darksaber (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:49:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 53,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28694229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SONeill13/pseuds/SONeill13
Summary: After the events of S1E8, Din returns to Sorgan. Bonds deepen but his creed and his quest hold him back. After S2E16, creed broken and child gone, what will he do? Will life be peaceful or are there new challenges on the horizon?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Omera
Comments: 398
Kudos: 190





	1. Rest

**Author's Note:**

> This story is gonna be another long one fam! With all of the things I have rattling around for the plot, I hope it will be as long as my Zutara fic at 160k. So far I have 10 chapters and 25k words written. I plan to update on Mondays but as this is a new story I may drop another chapter later today.   
> As always fam, I hope you enjoy this baby as much as I am! I am kind of obsessed right now. Please drop me a comment if you want!

**Part One**

**Chapter One**

**-rest-**

Cool water sloshed against the tops of her waders and tugged lazily at the edges of her skirt. The late afternoon air was filled with the usual sounds of the village, reminding her of the peace they enjoyed here and how they'd won it back. Remembering, Omera refocused her gaze on the krill darting around her feet, on the children playing between the ponds, on her hair dragging limply along in the water beside her, on everything but the clear sky. She did  _ not _ watch the sky. There was no reason to. When the Mandalorian had left more than two standard months ago, there had been no promises of return, no maybe somedays. Someone wanted his precious boy dead, so he had to move on. And likely on and on, again and again. Thinking of them, forced to live constantly on the run, never safe long enough to truly ever rest, her heart ached for what a lonely and exhausting life she knew it to be. Catching herself glancing up at the horizon, again, Omera sighed heavily and thrust her hand back into the water to snatch at the first green blur she saw. As much as she would have... as  _ everyone _ would have liked for them to stay, it wouldn’t have been safe. Not for the village, not for that curious green child. If there was anything she could understand, it was the desperate and unyielding need to keep one's child safe and protected in the midst of violence and chaos. He may not have been his true born father, but their bond was plain for all to see and it had only seemed to grow in the weeks they had spent in the relative peace Sorgan offered.

Standing suddenly, Omera swiped the damp hair from her face and set her basket on the ground beside her, perhaps a bit too hard, and hauled herself from the pond. The mindless chore that was krill harvesting allowed her thoughts too much freedom to wander, and dwelling on their erstwhile hero and his adopted son would do no one any good. Least of all her. 

“Where are you off too, Omera?” Caben called out to her from the pond she’d just vacated, a curious lilt to his voice. Wringing out her skirt, she forced a smile. 

“I just need a break. Quick check on Winta, maybe a walk.” She shrugged and Caben nodded in understanding. A few of the women nearby waved her away, all cheerful smiles. 

There wasn’t really any need to check on Winta, she could see her from the krill ponds easily enough. So when her feet carried her towards the treeline, she let them. Some had worried the raiders would come back once their defenders had gone, but their worry had been unwarranted. In fact, the last two months had been so completely peaceful Omera found herself growing restless. After the tumultuous mess her life had become before she’d found her way to Sorgan, the ease of the place had been a welcome change. It wasn’t until the Mandalorian had come, not until he put a blaster back in her hands, helped her defend her home and made her feel the ghost of things she hadn’t even thought about in years that her life had felt… unsatisfying. Winta had seemed to feel it too and Sorgan was all she’d ever known. She asked about her father for the first time in years, asked about other star systems and what it was like to make the jump into hyperspace. The few times Omera had caught her playing alone, her favored doll had been replaced with a bent stick blaster. It had made her nervous. It had also made her laugh a bit.

Just as she reached the edge of the forest, the sudden tearing roar of a ship flying low overhead had her searching the sky, her breath catching in her throat. Stepping out from the shade of the trees and shielding her eyes against the sun, she saw it. The Razor Crest shone in the light as it flew low over the trees and Omera watched until it disappeared from sight as it sought a place to land. 

He was back.

What could that mean? Would he come to the village this time? When she’d gone into town days before, it was abuzz with the news that the Mandalorian had returned, only to find Cara Dune and leave with the ex shock trooper as soon as he’d arrived. That time, she hadn’t seen his ship so she assumed he’d come in from the other side of the planet, landing nearer the town. A frustrated huff made its way past her lips before she could stifle it as she tried in vain to put him out of her mind. It might mean something that he’d made sure to be seen by the village, then again he was probably only bringing Cara back. For now, she should find Winta. No doubt she would be hyper with the prospect of seeing the Mandalorian's child again. Best to manage expectations. Banishing the anxiousness she felt from her face, she set off to find her daughter. 

By the time she found Winta, the children were indeed excited. She and a few other mothers reminded the children that he may have other business on the planet and not to gather about waiting for him when he likely wouldn't come. Directing them to the hall for lunch seemed to calm them and once they were busy eating, Omera decided she was ready to work again if only to distract herself. She made it as far as grabbing up her discarded basket and crouching to step back into the pond when she saw him. The glint of the sunlight on his armor was unmistakable. Heart hammering, she stood, krill basket once again forgotten. Without meaning to, she found herself walking out to meet him. As they got closer to one another, she could tell he seemed to be using his slow, deliberate pace to mask a limp. It was an effort to hold back both her joy at seeing him again and her concern that he was hurt. The child looked well at least, nestled against his side in a sling. A large pack was slung over one shoulder, his rifle the other. Deciding against waiting for him, Omera smiled and spoke first. 

“We didn’t think we’d see you again.”

He looked down at the child briefly before meeting her eye again, at least she assumed he was meeting her eye. She couldn’t see his face after all. 

“I didn’t think we’d be able to come back.”

“No more bounty then?” Omera hoped it was his voice modulator that made his answering sigh sound so broken. 

“I took care of that.” Neither of them spoke for a moment and she ran her eyes over him critically. There was dried blood on his cowl and in between the armor plates on his flight suit near his shoulder. “I was wondering if we would still be welcome. I… the kid missed it here.” 

She hoped she managed to conceal some of her eagerness from her smile. “You are always welcome. My barn is all yours.” By now a crowd had gathered, Winta eyeing the pair of them with barely restrained glee from where she huddled against Omera's side. The Mandalorian shifted his weight and Omera thought she would likely be the only one to have noticed how gingerly he moved. 

“Thank you then.”

Omera looked pointedly around the crowd and with a few calls of welcome, they dispersed leaving her and her daughter alone with the Mandalorian. A shared smile with her daughter and she nodded towards the village. 

“Come, even with all that armor I can tell you’re exhausted.”

Something that sounded like maybe a laugh made it through his modulator. 

“Am I that obvious?”

She laughed softly back.

“No, I’m just more observant than most.”

They made it almost back to her barn, Winta waving and making faces at the child all the way, before the silence was broken again. When he spoke, turning his helmet to face Winta, he sounded decidedly uncomfortable. 

“Winta, would you… Would you like to play with him for a bit?” The child's long ears perked up and her daughter’s answering smile was blinding as she reached up for him. Omera was impressed that he had remembered her name.

“I’ll take good care of him mr. Mandalorian!” 

Omera watched him watch the children run off to find other playmates before he turned back to her.

“You’re right. I could use some rest.” She nodded and neither one spoke again until they were safely alone in her barn, though she continued to watch him closely as they walked. His pack hit the ground with a heavy thud and he groaned. She had to wrap her arms tightly across her chest to keep from reaching out to him. 

“You’re hurt.”

Sighing heavily, he only waved his hand over his shoulder at her dismissively. “I’ll be fine.” When she didn’t respond, he turned to face her. “I just need to rest.” Not at all convinced, Omera raised a skeptical brow and nodded to his shoulder. 

“There’s dried blood on your flight suit and cowl, and watching you move, well... I’ve seen enough injured men to know one when I see one. Even with the armor.”

That seemed to get his attention, he cocked his head to the side curiously and she imagined she could feel his questioning gaze through the helmet. He wanted to ask what she’d meant by that, she was sure. When he had been there before, they had shared a few short conversations about his past and she’d shared a bit too but nothing before Sorgan. Omera hoped he didn’t ask, not yet. She wasn’t sure she was ready to share that story with him. Before he had the chance she spoke again.

“Do you have any injuries that need immediate attention?” Seeming to snap out of whatever he was thinking, he shook his head slowly.

“No. There was a… shootout.” A severe understatement she’d wager. “I had a head injury but an IG unit patched me up with some bacta spray so I’ll be fine.” At her incredulous stare he reiterated. “I just need rest.”

“What? I’m not sure what part of that is more unbelievable. That you let an IG unit near you without your helmet...” 

His hand shot up to stop her. “He isn’t technically a living thing so… it didn’t count.”

She could only scoff at that and carry on undeterred. “Or that an IG unit had nursing protocol, and bacta spray? Are you sure it was an IG?”

“Yes.”

Shaking her head she reached into a crate for a few extra blankets and muttered under her breath. “Must have been some head injury.”

Evidentially the helmet enhanced his hearing. 

“He’d been reprogrammed.” He only sounded slightly defensive but Omera couldn’t hold back her laugh as he continued to watch her. Biting her lip to calm herself, she crossed the room to stand in front of him, handing over the blanket. Even knowing he was in more pain then he was willing to let on, she couldn’t seem to drop her smile.

“So just rest then?”

Taking the offered blanket and sitting heavily back down onto the cot, he nodded. “Maybe some more of that tea you slipped into my pack when I left before, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Feeling a slight blush creep up her face, Omera ducked her head. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s a medicinal blend I make myself.” She turned to leave but paused by the door. “I’ll bring the tea and something to eat, why don’t you change out of that filthy flight suit while I’m gone and I’ll wash it for you while you rest.” 

His helmet snapped back up to her. “That’s not necessary…”

“Look,” she cut him off “I don’t know how long you’re planning to stay this time, but I can guess why you came back. You and your boy have clearly been through hell since you were here last. You need to rest and truly heal before you head back out into wherever it is you’re going. Here.” She grabbed a basket from a nearby crate. “Put it in here and set it by the door. I'll take it when I bring the tea.”

“You really don’t need…” Whatever final attempt he may have planned died on his lips at her challenging look and he held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. Thank you, Omera.” 

<DO>

Once she had gone, Din let out a long suffering sigh and began to gingerly peel off his armor. She had been right, everything he wore was filthy and certainly needed a wash. He hadn’t meant for her to do it though, he was already an imposition as it was without her spending so much of her time caring for him. By the time he had buried Kuiil and made it back onto the Crest, he had been too sore and worn out to do much more than set the coordinates to Sorgan and pass out in his armor, the kid tucked against his side. Once he’d finally woken, he had tried to clean most of the blood and dust from his armor and cleaned himself up as best as he could but the sonic shower on his ship was damaged and there was something to be said about using water anyways.

As he undressed, he thought about their conversation. Sorgan was as backwater and out of the way as you could get. Cara certainly wasn’t the only stranger with a past looking to lay low here. Was that what Omera was doing? Din’s first impression of Omera had been of a kind, admittedly beautiful, widow raising her daughter and farming krill on her home world. But then she had been the only one in the whole village that had ever fired a blaster and more than that, she’d actually been a good shot,  _ and _ hadn’t seemed at all shaken when they’d held the line against the AT-ST. It had made him curious about who she was before she’d had Winta but not enough to pry into what could have been a painful past. She was a widow after all and he knew something about painful secrets. 

In the short time he’d been back she had offered up several new hints and filled him with even more questions. Where could she have “seen enough injured men” to be able to see past his beskar to the pain he was usually successful at hiding? From the questions she asked, it made him wonder if she had medical training. Could she have had more in common with Cara then she had let on? And then she had been so shocked when he’d mentioned the IG unit. It wasn’t exactly a galactic secret what they were, but what call would a simple outer rim krill farmer have to know so much about them?

He was so engrossed in trying to piece together his hostess’s past as he pulled on his spare suit that he almost missed her calling to him. 

“Are you alright?”

Sliding his helmet back on, Din picked up the basket she’d left him and moved to the doorway, shouldering his way through the curtain. Concerned tension seemed to bleed from her as soon as she saw him and the smile she wore made heat rise to his hidden face. “Sorry, I was… distracted.” He felt oddly self conscious standing in front of her without his armor as her gaze swept over him so he moved to the side to allow her into the barn. She set down the tray of food on top of a crate and reached out to take the basket from him. 

“I’ll get this back to you soon. If you’d like, we can watch your boy until after dinner if you want to sleep or…” She glanced around him at his piled beskar. “Take care of your armor without him under foot.”

He didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes, thank you.”

Another nod, another warm smile. 

“Well, if you find you do need any help, you know where to find me.”

Alone again, Din walked to the window to find the child playing with Winta and the other children. He pulled his helmet back off and breathed deeply. Krill and grass and damp and pine and warm, sunlit air. Not until he was back did he realize how much he missed the slow ease of this place. Now that there would be no more bounty hunters chasing them down, they could afford to stay in one place and rest for a while.


	2. lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I would post this yesterday. I'm sorry! Here it is, chapter 2! After this it will be updated on Mondays!  
> Enjoy!

**Chapter Two**

**-lessons-**

Din slept for the better part of the next two days. Omera brought him his meals and the kid was so worn out from playing and the lingering strain from whatever it was he did back on Nevarro that he was happy to sleep with Winta. He felt a bit bad about that, but now that he was finally somewhere he felt safe enough to truly rest, all the stress and the injuries from the last few months hit him at once. It wasn’t until the third day that he ventured from the barn. Not much seemed to have changed since they’d left. According to Omera, the krill harvest was coming to a close and soon they’d be focused on brewing spotchka and preparing the village for winter. When he asked how harsh they were, if it snowed, she had been emphatic that no, it did  _ not _ snow. She hated the snow. He added that bit of information to the growing picture he had of her past.

The kid—he really should come up with something to call him—spent most of his time playing with the children or nestled into Din’s side as he sat in the sun by the barn, cleaning and tuning his armor and weapons. He told Omera the light was better outside, which was true and the reason he’d sat there in the first place. The fact that he could watch her working in the ponds, even if he told himself he was keeping an eye on the kid, was just a happy coincidence. That's where he was when a thoughtful looking Winta, a plate of food in one hand and the kid tucked in her other arm found him one afternoon. She sat the food and her charge both down gently near his feet before plopping down too. Rather than launching into any questions or conversation, she focused on feeding the kid. 

“Shouldn’t you be in lessons right now?” None of them were sure how much the little green squirt understood, but he seemed interested enough in whatever it was they did for those few hours every morning. 

“We’re skipping. He was hungry and I was bored.” Din was only partially successful at biting back a laugh as he bent back over his breastplate. Hopefully Omera wouldn’t think it was his fault. Neither of them said anything for a while, both engrossed in their respective tasks. Eventually he felt her gaze burning a hole through his beskar, so he paused what he was doing and looked up at her. 

“What?” Her eyes widened at being caught staring but she didn’t look away. 

“I asked momma how you wear that helmet over your ears the last time you were here but she said you don’t have them because you aren't like him. Well, she thinks so anyway. It’s not like she’s seen either.” 

This time he didn’t hold back the laugh.

“I’m as human as you, Winta.” She accepted his answer with a solemn nod and helped the kid to another bite.

“So where  _ did _ he come from?” 

Hmm. How to answer that in a child friendly manner. The part of the story he actually knew wasn’t exactly something he thought she needed to hear, nevermind the lingering shame he felt for turning the kid in in the first place. Where he’d been before he found him, well that was just as much a mystery to him.

“I’m not really sure. He was... a bounty. I didn’t like the look of the guy that wanted him so…” He shrugged and looked up at her. Whatever she was expecting, that didn’t seem to be it, or enough of an answer if the confused, “and then what” look she was giving him was anything to go by. Sighing, Din reached out to scratch the kid’s wrinkled head and found himself repeating the Armorer’s words. “He is a foundling in my care. Until he is of age or reunited with his own kind, he is as my… my son.” It still felt strange to say regardless of the way he was beginning to allow himself to feel about the kid. Maybe he should teach him some Mando’a? Not that he spoke  _ anything _ yet. Wondering if he would even understand anything but Basic, he nearly missed what Winta whispered to the kid. But he did hear it and he was sure he wasn’t meant to.

“Lucky.”

Lucky? Surely he’d misheard her. 

“What did you say?" He huffed a humorless laugh. "You know, he’s nearly been killed more than once since he’s been with me.”

She blushed, realizing he’d heard her and quickly turned back to the kid and let out a huge sigh. “You might not be a normal dad, or even a very good one, but at least he has you.” The rest was said so quietly he had to strain to hear. “My dad died before I was even born.” A pang of sympathy shot through him at that but he had no idea how to respond. Thankfully she kept talking, a little louder again, sparing him that. “I never even got to meet him. Mamma said he was a really good pilot.” Looking up at him, she smiled sadly before scrunching up her face as if trying to remember something. “She said he got to fly one of those… X-Wing Starfighters during the war.”

Well, that wasn’t what he’d expected. It was probably underhanded to encourage her to keep sharing a story that was more her mother’s to share but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Who was he to tell her to stop when she seemed to want to talk about it? “Oh ya?”

“After that Death planet or whatever blew up they joined the rebels. When she found out about me they were on some snowy planet… Moth?”

“Hoth?”

“Ya! That one.” The kid was done eating by now so they busied themselves by tugging at the grass growing over the edge of the porch where they sat. “She  _ says _ he was a really good pilot but he couldn’t have been  _ that _ good. He got blown up and now I don’t have a dad.” Winta looked sad, naturally given the subject, but thankfully didn’t start crying. Din wasn’t sure he would know what to do with that. Suddenly Omera’s hatred of the snow made more sense. She’d been stationed on that miserable ice planet when her husband had been killed, leaving her pregnant and alone.

“Even the best pilots can lose a fight, kid.”

A dirt clod bounced viciously across the grass before she let out another drawn out sigh and turned to the kid. He must have sensed her mood, his ears sagged and he rested a clawed hand on her arm before she pulled him into her lap for a hug. “That’s true I guess.” After a few moments of quiet, she turned them around to watch what he was doing. “Have you ever been in a fight? In your ship I mean.”

Din tapped a finger against his breastplate and sighed. “Sure, but I’ve never gone looking for one. Not like…” Not like her father, not for so important a reason. “Well the Razor Crest isn’t exactly a starfighter.” Wide eyes tried to meet his before she broke into a fit of giggles. “What?” 

“The last time you were here, I asked Cara what your ship looked like. She said it was older than she was, and not in the cool way.” More giggles only mostly stopped when he crossed his arms and tilted his helmet down at her in what he hoped conveyed his offense. “Well, it can’t be that bad if you’re still alive.”

Scoffing, he shook his head and went back to working on his armor. Her curiosity seemingly sated for the moment, she seemed happy to sit there watching, the kid now nearly asleep where he sat in her arms. Seeing that she was done talking about her parents, Din went back to working on his armor. 

Sometime later, that was how Omera found the three of them.

“Winta! There you are. I see you decided to skip lessons again today. And what have I told you about bothering our guest?”

Winta jumped slightly at her mother’s voice; she’d nearly fallen asleep. Din looked up at Omera who thankfully looked more exasperated than angry. 

“She wasn’t bothering me. I guess I should have sent her back to lessons though. I’m sorry.”

Before her mother could reply or scold her again, Winta groaned dramatically.

“But mom, lessons are so  _ boring _ ! We don’t learn anything cool.”

“They’re important. You have to learn certain things to be a grown up, Winta.” 

Looking only moderately chastened, she muttered mutionasly to herself. “Ya, if you want to be a krill farmer.”

Not missing a thing, Omera laughed softly and sat down beside them. “Oh Winta, we’ve talked about this. That’s what people do here.” She paused and corrected herself. “What  _ we _ do here. We raise krill and brew spotchka and all work together and live nice, peaceful lives. Mostly peaceful.”

Huffing in frustration, Winta glared off into the distance. “I don’t want to be a krill farmer. I want to learn how to fly a ship and see other stuff.” 

Having realized almost as soon as Omera had sat down that this was definitely not a conversation he should be a part of, Din turned his helmet to stare intently down at what he was doing. He couldn’t tune them out though.

Omera, seemingly equally frustrated with the conversation, reached out to brush the hair from her daughter's face. The movement brought his attention back to them. It was such a simple gesture but for a fleeting moment, before he reminded himself of what he was, he wondered what it would feel like for her to run her hand through  _ his _ hair. 

“I know you don’t sweetheart. Why don’t you go put him down to sleep in the barn and go join the other kids for lunch?”

Omera watched her daughter run off as directed before collapsing back against her hands and sighing heavily.

“How long was she over here?”

He looked at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. “I’m not sure. At least a couple of hours, maybe longer. She really wasn’t in the way.”

Nodding, she looked back at him over her shoulder with a conspiratorial grin. 

“I should blame you for that, you know.”

Setting aside his work so he could face her fully, he apologized again for letting her skip her lessons but she only shook her head and laughed softly. 

“No, not the lessons. I meant the wanderlust. Ever since you left she’s been like that. Asking about her father, about other systems, why we live here. It’s not like she’d never seen a ship fly across the sky or a strange looking visitor in the town but… Well, I’m not sure why she was so affected but, now she seems to have it in her head that she can’t be happy here. ”

Din shifted uncomfortably, not sure what she wanted him to say. “I’m sorry then. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back. I… didn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

She shook her head, her smile fading to something serious and far away. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, not really. Winta’s just a kid, she doesn’t understand how rare this kind of stability is in the galaxy and how lucky she is to have it. Although, if I’m being honest, I think I’m starting to feel a bit restless myself.”

“You want to learn how to pilot a ship too?”

He was sure he could never get tired of her laughter. 

“Oh no, I can do that already. Just…” She shook her head and let whatever she’d wanted to say die on her lips as she stared off toward the ponds. Thanks to his conversation with Winta, his idea of who Omera was before she’d settled on Sorgan was becoming clearer. It seemed like every time they spoke since he’d gotten back, she let something revealing slip and he wondered if she would mind if he asked. Din leaned back against the barn and crossed his ankles, deciding to leave it for now no matter that he found himself wanting to know everything about her.

“I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything you  _ can’t _ do.”

Whipping her head back around, she gave him an incredulous look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “You just keep surprising me with skills I wouldn’t expect to find in a place like this.”

For a long moment she didn’t respond, her expression unreadable, and he wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything. Then she smirked and the tension that had started to build in his chest disappeared at once. 

“Well, I guess you don’t need armor to be mysterious.”

They both laughed then, Omera’s hand coming to rest back on the rough wooden planks of the patio, dangerously close to his thigh. Staring at one another in the silence that followed, part of him, the same part that imagined her hands in his hair, wished she would touch him. At all, anywhere. Before he could think too much about what that meant, a woman he thought might be named Hannah called out to Omera as she and three other women headed towards the krill ponds. 

“Well, looks like I’m needed. You should get some lunch too. I’ll see you later, Mando.”

Suddenly he needed her to know his name. Everyone called him “Mando” or just “the Mandalorian” like he was the only one. Not that he’d discouraged it. Generally his clan guarded their names as closely as their faces. It wasn’t like it was a secret anymore though, not after Nevarro. 

“Call me, Din. Please.”

“What?”

“It’s my name. Din Djarin.”

She immediately sobered, as if she understood what it meant for him to share this with her. 

"Din." The soft tilt to her lips as she stared down at him made his skin heat beneath the beskar. "I'm glad you came back, Din."

Unable to come up with a response in the face of her pleased grin, he nodded once as she walked to join the other women. He was in trouble. 


	3. attached

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3! I wrote another 7.5k words this week. I am considering updating more often. With my other fic, I was this far ahead at first too and did 2x a week but eventually I couldn't keep up that pace when life got crappy. Anyway, I'm thinking about it. Who knows. 
> 
> Hope you like this one guys!

**Chapter 3**

**-attached-**

Din knew he should have left after he’d told Omera his name _. _ He’d never told anyone his name. Cara and Karga knew it, but he hadn’t been the one to tell them. Before Omera and the unavoidable pull he felt towards her, there had never been any need. There had never been anyone he cared to tell, not that he would have considered such a betrayal of the creed, even if it was a relatively minor one. When she had asked him to stay before, part of him wanted that desperately. It  _ would _ have been nice to stay, to live in the peaceful village with her.

But he had known, even before the bounty hunter had come for them, that he couldn’t stay. He was a Mandalorian. He was bound by Clan and Creed to his people and their strict way of life. What kind of relationship could he ever have with anyone when he couldn’t allow them to see his face? 

Especially now, after the covert had been nearly wiped out for his sake, he knew he could never have a normal life. And for most of his life, that had been something he had willingly traded for all that the Mandalorians had given him. He couldn’t allow himself to falter. Not now. Not after everything. 

So he should have left. 

But he didn't. 

It had been easy the first time he’d left to forget the way he’d felt there. The way he had started to feel about her. Every day had been chaos, outrunning bounty hunters and hopping from one planet to another just trying to keep the kid safe. This time it was different. Without the threat of constant danger, enemies always at his back, it was becoming impossible to ignore. 

And he did try. 

But if he was honest with himself, it wasn't his best effort. Every time he saw her, which in the small village was often, some excuse would pop into his head to approach her. Even just a nod hello was enough when she always  _ shined _ back at him the way she did. Always making him feel like she was happy to see him. He was only making it harder on himself when he would inevitably have to leave. Considering he would never truly be able to let himself feel the things he wanted, it was foolish.

Then there was the kid. Just like before, the little guy was thriving here. He went with Winta and the other children to their lessons in the morning, if only to keep Winta from skipping. After lunch he napped in the barn for a bit and spent the rest of the day either at Din’s side or glued to Winta’s. The two of them were almost always together. 

Winta was a good kid. For some reason he couldn't fathom she liked to hang around him. He wasn't exactly the best company but after she had told him about her father, something seemed to have shifted. She seemed to be comfortable around him when the rest of the children still seemed intimidated. Many afternoons, she played with the kid and watched him take apart every blaster, clean every piece of beskar. There were so many questions, about what he was doing, about growing up in the covert, about what the inside of his helmet smelled like. 

A few days after he had told Omera his name, he shared it with Winta. She had been sitting beside him with the kid again, intently watching him take apart and clean one of his blasters. The kid seemed interested too, sitting in her lap, wide brown eyes tracking his every movement just like the girl's. 

"Mr. Mandalorian, how do you remember where all the little pieces go after you take it apart?"

He had thought about telling her how he'd learned. Not much older than her, drilled again and again until he remembered. A Mandalorian should be intimately familiar with his weapons.

"It's like a puzzle, every piece has a place it fits, and I've done it so many times I hardly have to think about it." 

"So it's easy?"

"No, that's not what I said." Sighing, he gestured to the smaller pieces. "At first, it's difficult. It took a lot longer and I made mistakes. It just takes practice."

She’d given him an incredulous look but gone back to watching. The formality of the title she'd given him didn't seem right anymore so before the moment passed he had set his blaster aside and tilted his helmet to face her. 

"Winta, you don't have to call me that. You can call me Din. That's my name."

A blinding smile had lit up her face then. "Really? Din... Din the Mandalorian. Does Mom know it? Does anyone else? Is it a secret?"

A low laugh had escaped before she’d even stopped talking. "Yes, I told your mom already. A couple of days ago. Only a few people know it I guess but I've only ever told you two. And yes, it is a secret." More or less. 

She had sat straighter and tried to give him a sober nod but it had melted into a conspiratorial grin almost immediately. 

He would miss her when he left too.

Eventually he would have to begin his search for the Jedi, the people his son supposedly belonged with. When he had first rescued him, finding somewhere he would be safe was his priority. Now, knowing he might eventually have to give him up, after everything they'd been through… Those were feelings he didn't want to examine too closely. For now, he would let the kid enjoy himself. 

<DO>

The Mandalorian, no… he’d asked her to call him Din. Din had been with them for two weeks and the feelings he’d awoken in her the last time he’d stayed had come roaring back nearly as soon as she’d laid eyes on him again. Having him stay in her barn, so close to her every night, was decidedly unhelpful. Knowing it wouldn’t, couldn’t last, Omera had tried to keep her distance. Despite her pathetic attempts however, they seemed to orbit each other. It was a small village but his beskar made him easy to pick out no matter where she was. She frequently found herself near him. 

In the mornings when she worked in the ponds, she could see him where he sat in front of her barn if she was facing the right way. Hannah had caught her staring more than once and regularly cast knowing smirks in her direction whenever he was around. Which was often. For as much as she’d chided Winta for bothering him, much of her free time was spent in his company. Knowing he would leave again, knowing she’d likely never get to see the man beneath the armor, Omera did her best to keep her attraction hidden. Their conversations ranged from the mundane to the personal, like before, but this time he seemed more interested in her. Or at least, he was extremely curious about her past, not that he’d ever been forward enough to ask her directly. There had been more than one passing comment wondering about her piloting skills though. 

The more comfortable she grew with him, the more she wanted to tell him. All the things she’d kept locked away for the last nine years. If he asked, Omera would tell him. She wanted to know everything about him too. He had surprised her the first time they’d met when he had given her a brief window into his childhood. They had been strangers then but he had answered her prying question without hesitation. It made her feel a bit guilty about guarding her own past so jealously. For a man of seemingly so few words, he always had more than enough for her. 

Most evenings, after dinner while their children played together by the barn before bed, they would walk around the perimeter of the village. They had taken to doing this ever since the raiders had been defeated. Just in case. No one in the village had any real weapons but it made everyone feel safer. Sometimes they’d talk, sometimes they walked in comfortable silence. Tonight, Omera felt like talking. Winta hadn't skipped her lessons after the first time, but she still seemed to prefer Din’s company to the other children now that he was back. She  _ had _ skipped today. 

“I hope Winta hasn’t been bothering you too much.”

He glanced at her a moment before shaking his head. “You know she doesn’t. I’m a little surprised actually. Surely playing with the other kids would be more fun for her.”

Frowning, Omera tried to think how best to answer. “Winta does enjoy playing with the other children, mostly. Even though Sorgan is all she’s ever known, sometimes I think she feels like she doesn’t fit in. Living in a community like this, where everyone is so close and family is so important, it can be hard to be the only kid without a dad. Or any other family besides me.” Thinking about it, she huffed a humorless laugh. “We really are so isolated here. These people, I don’t think any of them have ever been off world. I’m sure they know how lucky we are, those raiders were the first real threat any of them had ever faced.”

Beside her, he nodded his understanding. “Places like this, where a family can live in peace, totally untouched from all the chaos of the last few decades seem rare. Then again, I don’t usually make a habit of seeking them out.”

It was silent for a few minutes as they continued walking before she thought of what to say next.

“Before you came last time, when she didn’t want to play with the others, I’d find her somewhere quiet with her favorite doll. I bought it off one of the rare traders we get in town when she was three. After the raiders, after you and Cara taught everyone to defend themselves most of the other children went back to playing ball and other childish games.”

“Not Winta?”

This time her laugh was more genuine. “No, not Winta. You know, about two weeks after you left I found her out here.” She gestured to the clearing along the tree line in which they stood. “She’d found a nicely bent stick to use as a blaster.” Din stiffened beside her. “When I asked her what she was doing, she told me she was ‘practicing.’ For what she couldn’t say. I guess she is getting too old for dolls anyway.” Smiling up at his visor, Omera started walking again. 

Taking a few steps and realizing he wasn’t following, she stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. 

“I can tell her not to hang around me any more if that’s what you want.”

Hearing the uncertainty in his voice, even after she'd done her best to make sure he knew he was welcome… "No, Din that's not... If I thought it was a problem I would have said something ages ago. I only meant, well." His shoulders sagged imperceptibly. "You wondered why she spent so much time with you. I think…" She shrugged. It probably wouldn't be wise to tell him just how much Winta thought of him. "Well, she likes you, and your son. If she gets something she's missing by spending time with you while you're here, I don't see a problem. As long as you don't mind, that is." Sighing, she looked back at the village. "Besides, if things had been different, she would probably already know how to handle a blaster."

He still seemed tense, but at least he'd started walking again. "The other day, she told me about your husband. About how he died."

It was Omera’s turn to stiffen in shock. 

"What did she say?"

His helmet tipped so he could watch her as they walked. "Not much. She said he was a good pilot." At her slow nod, he continued. "That he flew for the rebellion and that he was killed while you were both stationed on Hoth."

Hmm. Well hadn't she just decided she wanted to tell him more about herself?

"Kriff, that planet was horrible." His helmet may have hidden his face but Omera liked to think she had spent enough time with him to be able to read the man beneath a bit. She almost laughed at the shock she saw there. "I guess that's why they chose it. Probably hoped the Empire wouldn't look for us in such an awful place." Obviously waiting for her to say more, Din continued to stare at her silently. "He wasn't my husband. Tauren and I never married. We met not long after I'd left home and after the first Death Star was destroyed we joined up. He  _ was _ a good pilot. More than good actually. And I had already had medical and military training thanks to my father and we both had our reasons to hate the Empire so…" Shrugging as if it were nothing special, Omera waited for him to say something. He didn't, not for several minutes. Just as she was about to explain further, he finally spoke. 

"No wonder you don't like the snow."

As she laughed at his attempt at levity, Omera wished she could see the smile she knew he must be wearing. You couldn't laugh and frown at the same time. 

"Yes well, I think anyone would after spending time on Hoth."

They wandered closer to the trees as they kept on. "So, how did you end up on Sorgan of all places, after Hoth?" Knowing this wasn't something she necessarily wanted overheard, instead of turning back to the village Omera sat down on a nearby fallen tree. Rather than sitting beside her, Din leaned a shoulder against another tree, helmet cocked in her direction. 

"Well, being pregnant I didn't think staying at the rebel base was terribly wise. Given what happened there eventually I'm glad I left when I did. I couldn't go back home either. My father… well I was a known rebel entity by that point. I like to think he wouldn't have arrested me but… he was always a better Imperial officer than he ever was a father."

Unlike when she’d sworn earlier, if Din was at all surprised by that revelation he hid it completely. 

"Anyway, one of the other pilots got me to Mos Eisley and I used the rest of the credits I'd taken when I left home hiring ships and planet hopping till I ended up here. It was the first truly safe place I'd found, so I stayed. The people here welcomed me with open arms and no questions when I told them I had been widowed by the war. And, this is where we've been ever since."

Finally looking up at him, she tried to stare through his visor to the eyes he hid beneath. After several long seconds, he turned to look at the village, lamps and small fires lighting up the otherwise dark night. 

"I would think that after fighting so hard to make a safe life for your daughter, the last thing you would want is for her to be hanging around with a dangerous bounty hunter.” When she snorted in disbelief behind him, he turned quickly, peering down at her where she still reclined.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, Din. I have no doubt you are extremely deadly when you need to be, and that there were other dangerous people hunting you. Tell me Din, do you plan on hurting Winta?”

“What? Of course not. It just seems like… Maybe I’m not the best influence.”

Groaning softly as she pulled herself to her feet, Omera moved to stand beside him, cautiously placing her hand on his pauldron. “Winta was never going to be happy living the rest of her life here. She’s too much like me.” He’d been staring at her hand where it rested but his visor snapped up to her eyes at that. For a moment, there was something in the air between them. The picture of the four of them somewhere else, maybe many somewhere else’s, together, flashed through her mind. It was an impossible thing, but for that long moment she couldn’t breathe. Then he looked away and she let her hand drop to her side. “We really are glad to have you here, for as long as you can stay, Din.”

He wasn’t looking at her but she smiled anyway and headed back to her barn and their children. When she heard his heavy steps behind her, she relaxed, knowing he was still with her. She knew better than to get so attached to a man she knew would be gone and out of their lives again, possibly forever this time, but she couldn’t help it. 


	4. secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I just can't quit this fic. I've written almost 10k words this week and I am almost constantly writing. For now at least, I am going to go ahead and give you 2 chapters a week.

**Chapter 4**

**-secrets-**

With work done early in the afternoon, Omera decided to spend the day with her daughter. It was their habit on days off to take walks together in the woods close to the village and have a picnic dinner. Thanks to the Klatooinians, it had been more than a year since they had been able to indulge like that. In the two months since Din and Cara had helped them defeat the raiders, there had been too much work to be done to make up for the losses before the season ended. Preparations for winter were winding down and there was finally time to relax. 

She smiled to herself as she came out of her home, waders and pond skirt exchanged in favor of an old pair of olive colored pants and sturdy boots. She didn’t wear them often anymore. At one time in her life, they had been part of a daily uniform and were worn and comfortable from near constant use. Here in the village though, most of the women wore long skirts when they weren’t working so she saved them for treks through the woods. 

Winta would be with Din and the child at this time in the afternoon so she headed for the barn. Sure enough the three of them were crouched around a large woven basket. Or rather, a large,  _ partially _ woven basket. 

“See, you take this long piece and just weave it between these other pieces, like this. It’s easy.”

Din grunted but Omera couldn’t see what he was doing from where she stood just inside the doorway. “So you keep saying.”

Giggling and reaching forward to show him again, Winta seemed intent on helping him understand. “You can do it. You clean your blasters and put them all back together, this is way easier than that. Let me show you again…”

Deciding to interrupt the lesson before he lost his patience with the finicky task, Omera announced herself and stepped into the barn fully.

“There you are Winta, I’ve been looking for you. We’re done early so I thought we could go on a walk and find a nice place for dinner.” 

Winta leapt to her feet excitedly. “Really? We haven’t done that in ages! Oh! Can they come too? Please?” At Omera’s smile, the little girl spun to implore DIn. “You’ll come too won’t you? We take long walks in the woods and find cool places to have a picnic. Please?”

Din looked back at Omera over his shoulder and then down at the child. The noise that escapes his modulator sounds halfway between a laugh and a long suffering sigh but he stood and scooped his son into his arms. 

"Why not. I'm not having any luck here."

Omera covered her mouth with a hand to hold back her laughter. 

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it Din. Basket weaving takes a great deal of practice. Besides, not everyone's suited to it. Personally I prefer the actual krill harvesting and the odd medical care to weaving."

Having finished reholstering his blaster, he turned to face her. Finally getting a good look at her, his helmet tilted down and to the side just a bit and Omera got the distinct impression he was staring at her legs. Blushing, she looked down at herself. They were a bit on the tight side she supposed. When she looked back up at him, he was facing determinedly away from her, nodding with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm at whatever Winta was saying. She smirked at him before leading the way out. Well, she hoped she wasn't as obvious when she stared at  _ his _ behind.

It was a beautiful afternoon. Winta carried the much slower child and walked ahead of them a bit on the trail, stopping every now and then to point something out to him. Din had offered to carry the pack she’d filled with food and a rough spun blanket was draped over her arms as they followed the children. 

"So, you two used to do this a lot?"

She smiled down at the blanket in her arms.

"Yes. The village is home and we've never been made to feel like anything but family but… sometimes it's nice to get away from everyone for a little while. Most everyone eats their meals together in the long hall."

Beside her, Din was nodding as he watched the kids crouch to inspect another something in the underbrush.

"When I was a kid it was always just my parents and me. My father, I told you he was an officer, he was regularly gone or home very late. So, my mother and I spent a lot of time together. She would take me to a park near our home to eat dinner when my father couldn't be there. We liked to watch the moons rise." She let out a quiet sigh as she remembered. "We were very close."

Din was watching her now as they walked. 

"How old were you the last time you saw her?"

"I was fifteen when she died. When she got sick, there wasn't anything to be done and she went fast."

"I'm sorry." His voice was low and he was still watching her. Glancing up at him, she gave a rueful smile and shook her head. 

"I miss her but… it was a long time ago. I do wish she could have met Winta though." She watched her daughter help the smaller child catch an unlucky frog and she laughed softly. "Anyway, after that my father took more of an interest in me. Started taking me with him when it was appropriate. His was more of a diplomatic post so… it was interesting at first. Then he got it into his head that I should be useful to the Empire. Sent me to study medicine and had me trained in basic arms and defense." 

This was the part of her story that she always hated to remember. The part she worried he'd judge her for and that she'd left out the other day when she'd told him the rest. She hadn't even told Tauren the whole story and they’d been lovers for three years. Peeking at him through her hair, nothing about his body language suggested offense. He nodded slowly, likely filling in the picture she’d painted for him a few nights ago. He was a bounty hunter wasn’t he? Surely he had his own unsavory stories. Taking a deep breath, she decided she wanted him to know the truth of her. 

"I told you before he'd had me trained some but I… left out a bit." He had been watching his son attempt to eat something he'd found but at her admission his head snapped back to her. "I was attached as a field medic to a specialized unit, my father pulling strings for me no doubt. Then I was sent out into the field with them. Growing up I never had any thoughts about the Empire. It just... was. My father was devoted and thought his daughter should be too. It wasn't until I got out into the mid and outer rim worlds where things weren't so stable that I began to see it for what it was. I didn't stay with them long. One village wiped out for no reason was enough for me. But I was still there… patching up killers." 

Nerves twisted in her gut as she waited for him to say something. He was quiet, watching the kids again for several minutes. By the time he finally spoke she thought she might be sick.

"The kid, he was a bounty." His sigh was pained. "It wasn't a normal bounty, no puck, incomplete chain code, direct from the client." He glanced up at her, his emotions hidden by the helmet but his voice betrayed him enough that Omera could tell this was a story he didn't share lightly. "It was some Imperial remnant. Some old former officer. They didn't say why they needed him but there was a scientist there too and he was pretty clear he was to be brought in alive. All they gave me was a tracking fob and his age."

He paused and looked back at her, she was trying to mask her surprise but it must have failed. 

"I don't know what I would have done if they had told me it was an infant outright and I don't know what species he is but… he's fifty years old."

She gasped. "Fifty? Interesting…" Watching him closer for a moment, Omera wondered at the child. "Such delayed aging. Like a Wookie. Though… longevity is the only thing they have in common." Laughing softly she turned back to him with an encouraging smile. 

"Ya well, I was surprised but… he was still the job. The pay… it was pure besker, gathered during the purge on Mandalore. It belonged with my people."

Glancing discreetly at his armor, she nodded soberly. "You took him in."

Instead of answering, he nodded and rapped a knuckle against his breastplate. 

"But you have him now, what happened?"

Another pained sigh escaped followed by another stretch of heavy silence. They had approached a clearing Omera recognized from previous excursions. Several large trees with low hanging boughs ringed the spot, shading a full creek that fed into the nearby river. While she waited for him to continue, she watched her daughter set about climbing one of the closer trees. His son, sitting beneath her, looked back and stared at Din.

"I couldn't leave him there. It went against the bounty hunters code, and I shouldn't have cared but… after I found him on Arvala-7 there were a few problems getting off world. He… saved my life. I still don't know what the Imps wanted with him but I had to go back for him. Besides. He's just a kid." He paused and knocked a low hanging branch from their path as they stepped into the clearing with more force than was strictly necessary. "I never should have taken him in in the first place. I knew it was wrong but I did it anyways. And the cost…"

Sensing his distress, Omera reached a hand out to him, gently gripping his bicep just behind his pauldron. 

"I took the besker back to our covert, the Armorer forged my new pieces and then I went back for him. I probably wouldn't have made it as far as I did without the besker but we still would have been caught when the entire guild descended on us if it weren't for my clan. In order to stay safe, we stayed hidden, I was the only one that came out, taking bounty jobs to provide for the clan.. . They exposed themselves to help me escape with the kid."

"What happened to them?"

"Some were scattered, most of them were killed." His voice was tight with the shame and anger he felt over the loss he obviously believed to be his fault.

"Did you order them to help you, Din?"

He scoffed. "I wouldn't have even if I'd had the authority, which I didn't. But it was my choice that forced them to act, even if they knew what could happen. Now I have to take care of the child. He is my foundling and I've been charged to care for him as my own until I find the people he belongs with."

Omera dropped her hand from his arm and sighed, staring up at Winta. "I guess we've both done things we regret." 

She wasn't looking at him, but he was watching her. "Ya…"

Suddenly Winta let out a yelp and slipped. 

"Winta!"

Din moved faster than her but they were both too far from the tree to get there in time. Her heart hammered in her ears as she ran, too slow to catch her daughter. It hadn't seemed like she'd climbed too high until she was falling—screaming—to the ground.

Then, somehow, she wasn't. Winta’s screams cut off abruptly, exchanged for nervous cries of, "Momma!?" as she hovered three feet from the ground. Din, who hadn't stopped moving, skidded to a halt and gathered her into his arms before falling to his knees. Omera, breathless with relief, gasped for air, hands on her knees and tears burning her eyes. 

Din was panting and looking over the little girl in his arms.

"Winta, are you alright?" 

She had thrown her arms around his shoulders and shook slightly with quiet sobs. "Yes… I'm s..sorry I d..didn't mean to."

Omera wanted to run to her and take her daughter in her own arms, but then Din, somewhat awkwardly at first, began patting her back and murmuring in her ear.

"Hey, it's ok kid. It was an accident. You're ok.." 

Watching him comfort Winta warmed her heart and broke it all at once. It made her long for things they couldn't have, things they couldn't be. Knowing her daughter was safe, Omera tore her eyes away from the painful sight to find their other child. 

His son sat three feet to her left, listing to his side and panting from exertion. Curiosity seized her as the haze of adrenaline cleared and she remembered her daughter hovering in the air. Taking a few wobbly steps, Omera dropped to the ground beside him and scooped him up. He looked up at her, his wide brown eyes blinking slowly. Seeming to understand he was safe too, his little claws clutched at her sweater and he tucked his head against her chest, asleep at once. 

Letting out an amazed huff of breath, several things made sense all at once. Her realization must have shown on her face. When she looked up at Din, he was watching her carefully. 

"His people, the people you're looking for… Din… he can use the force, can't he? It was him wasn’t it? He saved Winta."

Winta was watching her too now, peaking around Din’s arm as he nodded slowly.

"I don't know what it's called, but… ya. His powers...That was him. Unless you're secretly a Jedi."

Impossible. Omera looked down at the sleeping child in her arms with mounting wonder. She had learned about the once powerful Jedi as a girl in school. Her lessons had usually painted them in a less than favorable light, but she had been educated at an Imperial school on a Core world. Regardless of their true character, they were supposed to be extinct. There had been rumors when she’d been on Hoth. Commander Skywalker had carried a lightsaber but, did that mean he was a Jedi? It had been more than a decade since she’d seen him and she hadn't even really known him except in passing and what Tauren told her. He could be dead for all she knew.

"The Jedi… well, it's good you care for him so much. You might be searching for a while."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm sorry if the third round of Omera story was repetitive, it felt natural and there was one little part that will be relevant much later on. Hope you liked it!


	5. severed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been looking forward to posting this chapter since I wrote it lol

**Chapter 5**

**-severed-**

Din awoke to the now familiar sound of tiny claws tapping against his helmet. A slow, sleepy grin turned up the corners of his mouth as he looked down at the kid, perched expectantly on his chest. 

His son. 

Realizing he had succeeded in waking Din, long ears perked up and a string of unintelligible babbling erupted. He listened, muttering along at all of the appropriate seeming places as he stretched his neck from side to side and rolled his right shoulder. 

"I take it you're ready for breakfast?"

Chuckling softly, he nudged the kid onto his lap as he sat up. 

"It's been nice, huh? Regular meals and good sleep. I hope you're not being too spoiled." Din ran an ungloved finger over his wrinkled head and looked around the barn. "We don't live this well on the Crest, do we."

They'd been there for four weeks. He knew he was only delaying the inevitable. Every day they lingered, every afternoon with Winta and the kid together, every evening spent in Omera’s company made him want to prolong their departure indefinitely. He just needed to leave, sever the ties to this place that strengthened every day once and for all. Before they were too strong and he couldn't.

For the first time in his life, Din chafed against his creed. He wanted things he couldn’t have without betraying the vows he'd sworn to the people that had rescued and raised him. Considering what his clan had sacrificed for him, guilt over these new feelings ate at him whenever he was alone with his thoughts. 

Omera hadn't mentioned it again after he'd come so close to letting her remove his helmet before he'd left the first time, but he thought she might want to. After their conversation a week ago about her past, it seemed like any remaining walls she'd had up around him had come down. No longer hiding half of her life, half of herself from him, she had stopped holding back or letting conversations die when they wondered too close to old scars. Two nights ago she’d told him stories from her time with the rebellion and Din was surprised to realize how little he knew about the important goings on during the war. 

She was more free with casual touches too after the first time that night. A slender hand would lightly rest on his vambrace as she wished him goodnight. Her elbow would bump into his now and then as they walked together around the village. 

It was probably a mistake to allow it but he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He enjoyed it too much. All of it. How easy it was to talk to her when he’d never had much to say before and the way she wasn't afraid to touch him. Kriff, he wanted so badly to touch her back. To thread his bare hands with hers, to trace his thumb down the side of her face and twine his fingers in her hair...

He needed to leave before he did something he couldn't take back. 

Impatient claws tugged suddenly at his arm, demanding his attention and bringing his focus back to the hungry womp rat in his lap.

"Sorry buddy, I guess we better get going before Winta starts to worry."

A happy chirp and more tugging had Din on his feet. 

"I know, we'll get you some food and find your favorite person." This time his babbling was subdued and Din’s heart clenched when he felt a soft head and ears tickle the exposed sliver of skin beneath his helmet. His little claws clung to him so tight that Din’s other hand went up to hold him closer too of its own accord. Beneath his visor, Din had to blink rapidly against a sudden and unfamiliar burning in his eyes and his voice broke a little when he spoke. 

"Hey kid, I… Your second favorite person, then."

When he pulled back so they could look at each other again, he realized with sudden, painful clarity what he had almost said. He loved him. The kid had found a gap in the beskar he'd built up around his heart and wormed his way in, leaving it open and defenseless in his wake. How the hell was he supposed to give him up to some Jedi now? Dread pooled in his gut at the thought. 

If only he'd never accepted the bounty for the kid in the first place. He never would have gone back for him, never would have started to feel things he could never allow himself to feel. If he hadn't been running with the kid he wouldn't have met Omera or Winta and they wouldn't be slowly piling in behind the kid into his heart. Making him feel things for them too.

By the time they made it to the long hall for breakfast, Din felt like he would be sick. He couldn't do this. He couldn't stay here any longer. He loved the kid and he couldn't remember ever feeling that much for anyone since his parents had died. Now that he recognized those feelings for what they were, he knew if he stayed any longer it was only a matter of time before he would feel the same way about Winta. Maybe he already did. She and the kid were always together with him to the point that they were almost one entity in his head. And  _ she _ wasn't his foundling, she had her mother. Her mother. 

Omera. 

It would be so easy to fall completely in love with Omera. To take off his helmet and stay with her forever.

He absolutely could not allow that to happen. 

Instead of staying to help the kid eat like he usually did, Din passed him to Winta, ignored his own food and went back to the barn. 

The hiss as he tore his helmet off once he was finally alone barely registered over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. His beskar, so long a comfortable second skin felt too rigid, too tight against his chest. One of the crates tumbled to the ground as he stomped over to the cot and sat down hard. Holding his head in his hands, Din sucked in one slow breath after another. After several minutes, he felt significantly calmer, but the reality of his realization was still just as terrifying. 

Today. They'd leave today, maybe after lunch. It wouldn't take long to pack their things and his ship was ready and waiting for them. 

No more afternoons with Winta and the kid. No more evening walks around the perimeter with Omera. No more picnics.

He was a Mandalorian. 

He had been given a job to do and by creed it was time he carried it out. 

He could not love her.

<DO>

A sour certainty filled Omera as she watched Din rush into the long hall that morning. Not even sparing a thought for his own meal, he dropped his son into her daughter's lap and fled. Several nearby people called out their usual morning greetings but he ignored them. Something was wrong. Winta turned in her seat to meet her gaze from across the room, fear filling her eyes as she clutched tighter at the child. 

Were the bounty hunters back for his son again despite whatever he had done to end the threat? The raiders? Dozens of scenarios ran through her head as she packed him something to eat. On her way out, she stopped beside her daughter. 

"What's wrong Momma? He said to feed him and then he ran out. He sounded upset. At least I think so, it's so hard to tell." Her voice sounded so small and the confused tears she saw beginning to gather in her eyes added fuel to Omeras worry.

"I don't know, sweetheart, I'll go find out, ok? You stay here and take care of him like he asked." 

She nodded and Omera went to her barn. Outside in the fresh air and not seeing any immediate threats, she decided to take her time in case he needed a moment. 

"Knock, knock," she called out as she always did.

Shuffling, something harshly whispered in a language other than Basic and heavy footsteps preceded him as the curtain was thrust roughly aside. He stared down at her, chest heaving, seemingly waiting for her to speak. "Is everything alright, Din? You… well it seemed like maybe something was wrong. I didn't hear what you said to Winta but you scared her a bit I think."

His shoulders sagged and he let out a pained sigh, gaze falling to the floor between them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset her. Nothing's wrong, well…" Another sigh. Looking around her quickly, he stood aside and waved her into the dimly lit barn. "I need to talk to you."

Suddenly she knew. He was leaving. It had sounded the same when he’d said it before. Willing away the tears that wanted to betray her feelings, Omera forced her lips into a weak smile. 

"I've been here too long, I've gotten too comfortable. The kids…" 

When he seemed unable to go on, she nodded slowly, still unable to meet his gaze, and rescued him. 

"They have grown very attached. Winta will miss him, and you as well." When he didn't speak, she risked a glance up at him. He was still staring down at her, body stiff with tension. Staring back to where she imagined his eyes might be, she tried to smile a little more genuinely. "She won't be the only one." 

"Omera…" His voice was thick with an emotion she hadn’t heard from him before and, emboldened by his imminent departure, Omera again reached for his helmet. This time she didn't try to take it off. A shudder ran through him when she placed her hand on the cheek of the helmet and to her surprise, he turned slightly into her touch. 

"I can't stay. I can't. If we're here any longer I don't know if I'll be able to leave. And I must. The kid, I have to find the Jedi. I have to find what's left of my people. I… can't stay."

She thought he might be telling himself as much as he was her. It hurt even more than she had known it would. "I know, Din. We've always known that. We'll be ok." When a warm, gloved hand mimicking her gesture came up to cup her own cheek, Omera had to squeeze her eyes against the tears. She wouldn't let him see them. She wouldn't burden him with her pain on top of everything else he carried.

"Thank you, for being here. For caring for us."

Eyes still shut tight, she nodded and had to fist her skirt with her free hand to keep herself from reaching up to hold his hand to her, keeping him there forever.

"You will always be welcome here, Din. I want you to know that."

Slowly, so slowly she thought she was imagining it at first, she felt him close the small gap between them. His other hand came up to cup her face and when she opened her eyes, he was so close to her she thought she could see through his visor. Neither one of them moved for a long moment and then, faster than before as if he didn't want to give himself time to change his mind, he pressed his forehead to hers. His beskar was cool on her skin but the tender intimacy of the gesture filled her with heat. 

"Goodbye, Omera."

The sadness in his voice broke her will and a single tear slipped free.

"Goodbye, Din."

  
  


He took Winta and the kid on a walk around the village to say goodbye. After she left him in the barn, Omera had warned her daughter what was coming. Her brave little girl hadn't pouted or cried once even though the hurt was plain to see. She hadn't been lying to Din when she'd said they had always known he wouldn't be there forever. It was something she had reminded Winta of most nights before bed. 

Knowing it was coming didn't make it any easier. 

The whole village had gathered to see them off again and she was glad for it. Having an audience made it easier for him to leave, easier for her to say goodbye. His son was tucked safely back in the sling, ears tightly drawn against his head, big brown eyes mournful.

Just before they disappeared into the trees, Din turned and looked back at her. She gave him one last parting smile, he answered with a solemn nod.

And then they were gone. 

Winta turned and threw her arms around her waist, Omera clung back just as tight and they stood there like that until they were alone in the clearing. 

"I'm going to miss them so much Momma."

Finally allowing her tears to fall, Omera let out a choked sob and held her daughter closer. 

"So will I, sweetheart. So will I."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter* I hope this hurt you as much as it hurt me. <3


	6. searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might be a little boring. I wanted to paint the beginnings of DIn's evolution in thought process. we get some of that in the show but without internal monologue and more episodes we miss a lot of his internal character development. I hope the next few chapters do an adequate job getting him from A to B so to speak.

**Chapter 6**

**-searching-**

Din missed Sorgan. 

In the moments before he was fully awake, before the blinking lights in the cockpit filtered through his visor, he imagined himself back there. He thought about Omera, asleep not twenty paces away in her home. He tried to remember the damp, slightly sweet, earthy smell of the early morning air. Then the fog of another poor night's sleep would clear. A crick he got from sleeping in the flight seat would make itself known in his neck and reality would resettle around him, as restrictive and cold as his beskar had become. He'd remember he wasn't on Sorgan anymore, and more importantly, he would remember why.

It had been two weeks of wandering the outer rim, chasing down one dead end lead after another, all so he could find some Jedi to take his son away. In the cold of his cockpit, Din was struggling to hold onto all the reasons he had to do this. Now that he'd had a taste of what his life could be if he weren't a Mandalorian, if he wasn't bound to this quest and the creed, the prospect of going back to his old life felt unbearable. Alone again, without his son or his people… a part of himself that he tried desperately to ignore knew he could not live that way. 

Before his son there had always been the covert to come back to. Not that he had ever been especially close with anyone there but at least it had been something, a place he belonged. He needed to find what remained of his people. Both to help him track down a Jedi and so he would have that home again. They wouldn't replace what he could have had on Sorgan, but they were all he had ever had. It would be enough.

His last stop had been infuriating. How many of his brothers and sisters had that one eyed bastard killed before he'd strung him up and left him for wild beasts? There were already so few of them left… hopefully the last word of a dead man would bear more fruit than his previous leads. 

As the Razor Crest dropped out of hyperspace over Tatooine, Din stared down at the planet. He hoped he found something in all that sand that would make the aching loneliness he felt worth it. 

<>

Cobb Vanth hadn't been a Mandalorian but now Din had his borrowed besker. The krayt dragon had been an interesting fight at least. Nearly being eaten by the thing seemed a small price to pay to return the suit of beskar'gam to his people where it belonged. Assuming he ever found any. 

Helping the beaten down people of Mos Pelga and the Tuscan raiders hadn't been a bad gig either, he supposed. He had been doing that a lot lately, getting sucked into other peoples business. They'd dangle vague knowledge about other Mandalorians and demand his help in return. Maybe at one point he would have just threatened and shot the information out of them but not anymore. Now he helped. The kid was making him soft. 

At least he hadn't left the planet without another lead. Although, if he ever saw Peli again he thought he might just shoot her droids after all. Din didn't speak whatever language the frog lady was croaking at him. As if watching out for any enemies while they traveled sublight speed wasn't bad enough, every time he looked away, his hungry little womp rat was scarfing down another one of her precious eggs. 

Just like with the krayt dragon, this helpful escapade to maybe learn something was looking like it might kill him. His ship was wrecked and there wasn't any way to effectively keep the frigid air and snow out. Somehow the frog lady had gotten the droid parts he'd kept around to talk and played the "are you a Mandalorian or aren't you" card—that was getting old too—and now he was crouched in the snow, trying to repair his ship. 

Ever since the New Republic officers had hailed him, he had thought of Omera. Trapped on this winter hellscape, she refused to leave his mind. He thought about her alone and pregnant and as freezing as he was. He thought about her raising her daughter on Sorgan with its mild winters. He thought about how much he'd wanted to rip his helmet off and kiss her before he'd left. Most of all he thought about how much he missed her. 

Din hated the snow too. 

<>

Confusion and anger and a feeling of having been cheated out of something vital, waged war with his dedication to his clan and creed. There had in fact been other Mandalorians on Trask, just like the frog lady had promised. They had barely made it, his ship only just holding together long enough. Once she had been reunited with her husband, they led him to a contact who agreed to take him to the Mandalorians. He had gone with them, trusting the Quarren against his better judgment. 

The elusive Mandalorians had arrived just in time to save him and his son. Three of them, but they had not been like him. Anger had crushed the initial rush of relief at finally,  _ finally  _ finding more of his people when they’d removed their helmets. A Mandalorian could never show their face. That was the way. He had faithfully kept his hidden since he was a child. But Bo-Katan, the leader of their trio, had claimed actual Mandalorian lineage. She had called him "a child of the Watch," part of a zealous exiled sect that had grown away from the rest of their society. He had never heard of this watch, all he knew was "the way." It was the only way. 

But was it? 

These were experienced warriors, proud of their Mandalorian heritage and working to return Mandalore to its once and proper glory. Bo-Katan claimed to have some sort of right to rule their people. While he knew nothing about that either, it was evident that she loved Mandalore and her people. They were Mandalorian. He couldn't deny it no matter how much he wanted to. 

And he wanted to so badly. 

If there were others, other clans of true Mandalorians that showed their faces, that lived like humans, what did that mean for him? Did it change anything? Everything? Why hadn't anyone ever told him before? Every story he had ever heard—about their people, about Mandalore, about their history, their creed—had led him to believe their strict adherence was all that kept Mandalore and her proud people alive in the galaxy. 

Their secrecy. Their unity. Their dedication to the way. Their muted relationships and hidden faces. Without those things they would be lost. 

Now he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. Would knowing about this wider Mandalorian reality have changed the choices he had made? 

Omera’s face came to him and the doubt and anger threatened to overwhelm him. 

No. 

He looked over his shoulder at his son. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now. His creed, whatever creed these new Mandalorians followed, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was his duty to his son. And that required him to find the Jedi. Bo-Katan had told him where to find one she'd called Ashoka Tano.

The kid was counting on him and he wouldn't let him down. 

<>

Moff Gideon was still alive, still out there scouring the galaxy for them. Now he knew why. The gruesome, inhumane experiments and misshapen corpses they had found in the mining base on Navarro were the result of the short time the Imperial scientists had possession of his son. It made Din sick to think what they would do if they got hold of him again. 

Even though it had started out as yet another mission to solve other people's problems, he was thankful he'd gone. Knowing the Moff was still out there, still hunting them, would keep him on his guard. Finding a Jedi, someone that could train and hide the kid from the Imperial remnant was more important than ever. 

It wasn't lost on Din how lucky they had been while they were on Sorgan. Whatever doubts he was having, it had been his dedication to his creed that had forced him to leave when he did. With Karga in control of the guild, there hadn't been new bounty hunters sent after them, but as long as he had the kid with him it wouldn't have been truly safe. Whatever methods Moff Gideon had to find them now may be less effective, but that didn't mean he wouldn't succeed eventually. 

Anxiety for his son's safety was a constant companion. He needed to find Ashoka Tano. As much as he loved the kid, as much as the idea of parting with him tore at Din, it wasn't a choice. He could never give him what he truly needed. And he couldn't protect him. 

At least his ship wasn't falling apart around them anymore. Karga had been as good as his word, the Razor Crest was in perfect shape. Out-flying the TIE fighters had proven that. Pushing his beloved ship to her limits had been a rush of adrenaline he wasn't sure he needed but blasting their enemies out of the sky had felt like an accomplishment. 

It also made him think of Winta. He wanted to tell her about it. It had been a real fight for the most noble reason he could think of and the Crest had flown beautifully despite her age. She would listen carefully, eyes agog, and probably ask a dozen questions. The most pressing one of course, "would he please,  _ please _ teach her how to fly his ship?" Thinking of doing just that had him smiling for a whole two minutes. Then he remembered why he'd never be able to. 

Sighing, he reached behind him to scoop the kid into his lap. Coordinates set, they made the jump to hyperspace. Looking down at his son, wide eyes staring up at him, pain lanced through him. Soon, he'd be with a Jedi and Din would have to face the expanse of the galaxy alone. One more person to miss every day. Would he ever see him again? As long as Moff Gideon wanted him, it probably wouldn't be safe. 

Why did his life feel like it was falling apart? The kid was the only good thing left, the only thing that made sense anymore and soon he wouldn't even have him. What would he do after? Keep looking for more of his people? If he found them, would they be from his own clan, strict followers of a separatist cult? How many others were there like Bo-Katan, who followed a less restrictive creed and had normal relationships and families? 

Holding the kid a little tighter, he wondered if it was even worth thinking about. Could he even consider what  _ he _ actually wanted? Not what was best for the covert, not where he might find other Mandalorians, but his own personal desires? 

"Let's get something to eat, kid. And maybe see what we can do to clean you up a little better. It shouldn't take us long to get to Corvus." Briefly he thought about Sorgan again and the ability to actually wash the kid properly. There had been more than one day Winta had brought him back, the pair of them covered in mud or pond water. He supposed a bit of puke wasn't so bad but he was glad his sonic shower had been repaired on Nevarro. 

Shaking those memories and other unhelpful thoughts from his head, he stood and they headed down to the hull for one last meal together. Whatever he did after, just then all Din wanted was to focus on the kid. 


	7. friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More introspection, with friends!

**Chapter 7**

**-friends-**

Din sat slouched over his knees, hands hanging limply between them, and stared at the floor. All things considered he thought he was holding it together pretty well. Grogu, his son, was gone. Stolen on Tython by a half dozen Dark Trooper droids, Din could have gotten to him in time if only he had retrieved his jetpack. The jetpack he had taken off when he’d met Boba Fett. The jetpack he had forgotten all about when the fighting had begun and he had raced, too slow, up the mountain to reach his son. As if the loss of Grogu to their enemies wasn’t enough, his ship—his home when not in hiding for the last decade and a half—had been obliterated. At least Boba Fett was an honorable man. With his help he actually stood a chance at saving his son. 

Before Tython, Din had thought he would be alone after giving Grogu to the Jedi. Now, facing this crisis, he realized that wasn’t entirely true. Cara Dune had no reason to help him. She wasn’t bound by creed the way the rest of his clan had been but she knew his name and called him a friend. Part of him wondered if her eagerness to help didn’t have more to do with the fact that she liked the kid more than him. Thinking about friends, he knew she wasn’t the only one who would be there for him if he allowed it. He didn’t have to be alone again. 

After what he’d just done at the hidden mining base, Din was losing his will to hold onto his creed anymore. Thanks to Mayfield, they had successfully retrieved the coordinates of Moff Gideon's light cruiser. Their success had come at a price though. Not only had he taken off his beskar in favor of a stormtrooper uniform, he had been forced to remove the helmet. He had no idea how many men saw his face. No matter that he had done it to save his son, his first and most important priority, he wasn’t sure the Armorer would understand. Then again, Din had no idea if she was even still alive to pass judgment. Regardless, as he sat in the passenger hold on Slave I, Mayfield’s words kept playing in his head. 

Would he care if he ever found the Armorer again and she judged him unfit for removing his helmet? He  _ had _ been desperate and crossed that line willingly, for his son, and the fact that he had shown his face to a room full of people certainly wouldn’t be what would keep him from sleeping tonight. Sleep hadn’t come easy since he’d left Sorgon more than a month ago and for the last week it had been even worse. The bunk Boba had given him on the ship was comfortable enough, but every time he closed his eyes he saw Grogu in some hidden Imp lab. No, if he had it to do over he would make the same choice again and again. His creed meant nothing to him if he couldn’t save his son. But what would that mean for him after?

The door hissed open beside him but he didn’t look up. Cara stomped across the small space and collapsed onto the seat beside him, sighing heavily. 

“Don’t worry, Mando. We'll get your kid back."

Letting out a sigh of his own, he finally looked at her. "I know." She called him a friend and knew his name, but she never used it. Maybe out of respect since he hadn't been the one to tell her. "You don't have to call me that. You know my name, Cara, you can use it."

She watched him for a moment as if unsure if he was serious, a cautious grin slowly turning up the corners of her mouth. 

"Are you sure? Isn't it supposed to be secret?"

Din looked back at his hands. 

"I want you to use it. We're… friends aren't we?"

Huffing a laugh, Cara clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Sure we are, Din. Friends. Speaking of friends, tell me about these other Mandalorians we're off to find."

He clenched his fists and sighed again. "Their leader, Bo-Katan, apparently has some kind of claim to the throne of Mandalore, not that I understand why she’d want to go back there. Hopefully the offer of an Imperial light cruiser to use in her efforts will be enough to get her to help us." Cara nodded in understanding and looked content with his answer. He wanted to tell her about the doubts he'd been having, not that she would understand exactly. Watching her from his peripheral, he decided he trusted her enough for this.

"They're not like me, or the Mandalorians that raised me. They do not hide their faces."

"Like Fett?"

"Yes. When I met them and questioned them about this, Bo-Katan said my clan was part of an exiled group of zealots that had broken away from the rest of Mandalorian society. That they were a cult who followed extreme interpretations of the ancient creed. I've never met any Mandalorians outside of my clan before. I thought we were all like this."

Beside him, Cara looked thoughtful. 

"So, you don't  _ have _ to live like this," she gestured to his helmet "just to wear the beskar and be a Mandalorian?"

Still not sure how he felt, Din shook his head slowly. "I'm not sure. I owe the Mandalorians who raised me my life. They rescued me as a child and raised me, trained me, made me the man I am. Then they sacrificed themselves so I could escape with the kid after I took him back from Moff Gideon's people. I owe them everything. How could I turn my back on them and the creed I vowed to uphold?" 

Cara shifted in her seat, rubbing her hand across the back of her neck. "Just because they raised you and sacrificed for you, doesn't mean they can't still be really messed up. I mean, you can't show anyone your face. How the hell do you have relationships with a rule like that? Have you even shown your face to the kid? That Armorer, she said he was your clan now. 'A clan of two.' Doesn't that mean something?"

Frustrated at the truth he felt in her words, Din stood and paced. "It means everything but I still can't show him my face. The Mandalorian that rescued me, my father, I never saw his face either. This is the way!" 

Not at all bothered by his outburst, Cara merely crossed her arms and shrugged. 

"Ya, but is it the  _ only _ way? Or the right one?"

He didn't know anymore. For several minutes, they were quiet as Din tried to sort through his thoughts. Eventually he sighed and went to sit back down beside her. 

"After Navarro, when we thought we'd killed Moff Gideon, I went back to Sorgan."

"Oh really?" Din could hear the knowing smirk in her voice. The tone of their conversation had shifted suddenly and she was clearly on more comfortable footing. "Visit any mutual friends did you? Maybe a certain pretty krill farmer?"

Beneath the helmet, he rolled his eyes. "Yes. I stayed with Omera." When Cara guffawed, he corrected. "In her barn, I stayed in her barn again. We became… very close. Before Omera, I never felt terribly restricted by my creed. Not really. It was a small price to pay for everything they had done for me. When I was on Sorgan this time I grew to resent it. It would have been so easy… it was very difficult to leave."

The suggestive lilt in Cara's voice was replaced with genuine concern. "Do you love her, Din?"

Closing his eyes and picturing her face, Din shook his head once. "No." He sighed. "I don't know. As soon as I realized what I was beginning to feel for her, I left. I couldn't allow myself to fall in love with her. How could I? But I do care for her very much, and for Winta. If I ever went back I know I wouldn't be able to leave. I do miss her, both of them actually" 

"Din…" Slowly, he turned to face her, and regretted it immediately. The look of tender pity was so wrong on her that he had to look away, thankful his helmet hid the blush he felt burning his face. "I think you already know what you need to do, when this is all over and you've found a Jedi to train Grogu. Once it's safe."

"Cara…" he shook his head. "It's not that simple. Even if I could take off the helmet and go back to Sorgan, let myself… be with Omera, I'm still a Mandalorian. I'm still a…" He gestured at himself. "All of this. What would that even look like? All I've ever done is take bounties. I don't know how to be anything else."

She sat back in her seat, staring off for a few moments as she thought of what to say. Din couldn’t see that there was anything  _ to _ say. If he thought it was possible, if his creed wasn't so restrictive, he knew he would go back to Omera. He wanted that. But could he really set his entire life until that point aside, everything he had ever been, to have a new life? Surely there was a limit, even for Mandalorians like Bo-Katan. Taking off his helmet was one thing, setting it all aside felt like something different. 

"You know," Din looked up to meet Cara's pensive gaze. "You can't exactly go back to bounty hunting." When he cocked his head slightly to the side in question, she gave him a pointed look. "No ship, remember?" 

Oh. Right. 

"And let's just say you found everyone from your old covert that survived the remnant attack. After everything you know now, after breaking your creed, would you want to go back? Would they even take you if you did?"

Din sighed and looked back at his hands. That was just it. How could he go back to them now after all that he had learned? Especially when that knowledge offered him something he never thought he could have. As to whether or not they'd accept him back after he’d broken his creed, Din had no idea. This was the question that had him the most conflicted and no matter what he might want, he didn't know the answer yet.

"You said you've never been to Mandalore. Maybe there is more to being a Mandalorian than wearing the beskar. A warrior doesn't stop being a warrior just because he has a life outside the battlefield. Besides, if you ever feel like you're getting soft farming krill, you can always send me a transmission. I'm always up for a fight if you feel like getting your ass kicked."

Shaking his head and letting out a tense laugh. "Gee, thanks."

Cara laughed too as she relaxed, kicking a heel up to rest on her other knee. "No problem. What are friends for?"

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, both lost in their own thoughts. Allowing his own to linger on Omera, Din found himself talking again.

"You and Omera have a lot more in common than I would have guessed."

"Is that so?" The suggestive tone was back, thankfully. "Tell you where she learned to shoot, did she?" 

He smiled, remembering their evening conversations. "Ya. Apparently she ran away from home, her father was an Imperial officer. Had her trained up some before she left." He decided to leave out the part about her Imperial service. Omera had seemed so hesitant to tell  _ him,  _ Din didn't think she would want everyone to know. "She met Winta’s father and they joined the rebel forces after the battle of Yavin. He was an X-Wing fighter pilot and she was a field medic."

This time when he chanced a glance at Cara's face, the abject shock he saw there made him laugh. "No way? I thought she was from somewhere else but well, being able to handle a blaster isn't exactly an uncommon skill these days. Did she say where they were stationed?"

"Hoth. He died before the Empire attacked though and she left to find somewhere safe to raise her daughter." 

"Damn. Right in the thick of it." She laughed softly and shook her head. "Those backwater planets can be so full of surprises."

Before he could say anything else, the door hissed open again and Fennec stepped through. 

"We'll be landing soon. Boba wants to go with you to find these friends of yours. You're sure they'll help?"

Din stood and reached for his rifle. "They will when I tell them what we're after." 

Nodding, Fennec turned and went back up to the cockpit. Once they were alone again, Din started to speak only to cut himself off at the self satisfied smirk Cara wore.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking, maybe I'll go with you back to Sorgan. I could use a break after this."

For all that she was helpful sorting through his confused thoughts, he definitely shouldn't have told her about Omera. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really trying to have Din take a very circuitous journey with his creed. I hope that this whole process makes sense by the end lol


	8. home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO this story has completely taken over my life. I can't stop writing. In the 4 weeks since I started posting I have written another 33k words so I've got almost 60k, I might post a third chapter this weekend. anyway I hope you like this. There is a smattering of Mando'a and I will have translations at the end.

**Chapter 8**

**-home-**

  
  


Watching the Jedi walk away with his son hurt Din more than he could have imagined. As soon as they were out of sight, his shoulders slumped and the breath he’d been holding burned as it tore free. He wanted to be sick, he wanted to cry—something he hadn’t done since he was a boy—he wanted to chase after them. The first person he had let himself love since his parents was gone, ushered out of his life by the Jedi he was always supposed to be with. He was immensely proud of Grogu, both for leaving even though he was afraid, and for all the things he knew he would accomplish now that he had a teacher. Nevertheless, the heady mix of pride and grief left Din feeling bereft and a bit nauseous. Knowing he couldn’t follow, that he had to let him go, the only thing Din could do was stand there, willing the tears that gathered in his eyes not to fall. 

Behind him, there was conversation and movement but it was muted to his ear. He thought maybe someone was calling his name. No, not his name, the shortened moniker he usually gave when someone asked him for it. Suddenly Cara was there, right in front of him. Her hands were on his shoulders shaking gently to get his attention and her voice was low.

“Din… Hey, Din.” Slowly, he looked up at her. Sympathy filled her eyes and did a decent job masking the astonishment she clearly also felt at finally seeing his face. Numbly, he recalled he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He had taken it off, for Grogu, for his son. Could he put it back on now? That was something he should care about, but just then he found that he didn’t. Blinking hard and swallowing thickly, he looked imploringly into her eyes. 

He wanted to leave.

Somehow, despite his inability to form words just then, she seemed to know exactly what he needed. A sad smile tilted half of her mouth and she nodded. 

“Come on, Din. Let's get you home, ya?”

He nodded too and accepted his helmet back from her. There was more conversation happening around him but he could only stare down at the beskar helmet in his hands. It wasn’t the first time he had broken his creed for his son, just the latest in a string of violations that he once thought would make him an outcast. As Cara shouted something crass across the deck and his attention was pulled into the conversation, he looked thoughtfully at Bo-Katan and Reeves. For some reason he must have missed, they looked angry. He knew because their helmets were tucked under their arms, not covering their faces. They were the only other Mandalorians he had seen in months and he didn’t think they would demand his beskar from him now that he’d shown them all his face. Deciding to worry about it more when he wasn’t so upset, he tried to focus on what they were arguing about. 

"You can't just take off with him and disappear to some outer rim bolt hole. Not when he wields the Darksaber, not when he has a duty to our people!"

Bo-Katan was marching towards them, index finger jabbing at him angrily as she spoke. Since he had yet to speak for himself, Cara was doing an admirable job telling the displaced princess exactly where she could stick her duty. Fennec was quiet but she stood at his other side.

"They aren't  _ his _ responsibility. Taking care of that kid, getting him to the Jedi,  _ that _ was his duty. Now that he's done that, I'm taking his depressed ass home to his family where he belongs. If that fancy Jedi toy is so damn important to you, take it and go!"

His family. Did he have that anymore?  _ Could _ he have that? What duty could he possibly have to a people he didn't know on a planet he'd never seen? By now Bo-Katan was standing right in front of him, boldly staring him down as she continued her tirade. 

"I can't just take it. You defeated Moff Gideon, it belongs to you. And the more I know about you the more I wonder if it wasn’t right that it came to you. I've had it before. And I've lost it. Three times I have tried to retake my home, and every time it eventually fell apart." Sorrow and regret flickered across her face for the briefest of moments before she stood taller. "My people,  _ our  _ people have endured enough suffering and death. Now that we no longer have powerful enemies without, it is time the Mandalorians returned home."

It was a grand speech and maybe she was right about the planet and going back. But she didn't know him, he wasn't any kind of leader like she seemed to think. Din was finally realizing that he already had a home. One that didn't require special weapons or more fighting. Putting his hand on Cara's shoulder to stop her from yelling back at the other woman, he answered. 

"I can't force you to take it from me, but I don't want anything to do with Mandalore. I'm not a leader like you want to believe. All I've ever been is a simple bounty hunter, then a…" his voice tried to break but he swallowed it down. "Then a father. Now I am not sure what I am, but it sure isn't some ruler of a desolate planet and a scattered people. Cara's right. It isn't my responsibility." Holding out the Darksaber with his free hand one more time, he hoped she'd take it. "Maybe now the Empire's gone you will succeed."

When she didn't take it, just stared at him with a mixture of disgust and anger, he lowered his hand and clipped it back to his side where it had been. 

"I wish you well, Bo-Katan. If you change your mind, come find me." He turned to Cara. "Let's go home."

He could tell she wanted to shout at him, to try a dozen other tacks to convince him, but she didn't. Reeves took a step forward when they started to leave.

"Gar cuyir Mando'ad. Gar cuyir Mand'alor. Gar enteyor alorir gar aliit"

Din stopped mid stride and turned to face her, gesturing to the door behind him.

"Ni slanar at ner aliit." He looked over her shoulder to Bo-Katan. "Bal Ni cuy' nayc Mand'alor. Ret'urcye mhi."

Bo-Katan held up her hand to quiet her friend and gave him a speculative look before nodding decisively. 

"Ret'urcye mhi."

Reeves looked unsatisfied but stayed silent. Seeing they were finally going to let him leave, he caught Cara's eye and nodded. As they turned to leave, he slid his helmet back into place. 

Reeves was right about one thing, he was Mando'ad. A Mandalorian. Showing his face wouldn't change that. 

<DO>

Back on the Slave, when Boba had asked how everything had gone, Din let Cara and Fennec do most of the talking. The other man's loud guffaw when Cara mentioned the Darksaber made Din want to laugh too but he didn't. Instead he'd sat slouched over his knees half listening, staring at the gear knob the kid had always insisted on playing with. While they filled their pilot in about the droids and the Jedi that had saved them, Din rolled the little thing back and forth in his hands. He wondered if he should have sent it with him but was glad he'd kept it. It was all he had left to remember him by. Sighing, he reached up and held it against his helmet. 

He missed him. He had been too focused on getting him back to miss him like this before. Now there would be no set of tasks, no one to fight so that they could be reunited. Grogu was gone. The Jedi had promised to give his life to protect him, and after he had single handedly destroyed every battle droid, Din knew he would be safe. And he would learn all of the things he needed to so that he would always be safe. 

A heavy hand pressed onto his shoulder, snapping Din from his reverie. Boba Fett stood over him, his scarred face lined with an old pain. He glanced pointedly to the gear knob in his hand. 

"Your son, you sent him with the Jedi?"

Din nodded. "He is one of them. It is… where he belongs."

Boba looked thoughtful. "Then you did right by him. Perhaps one day he will find his way back to you."

Unable to speak around the sudden tightness in his throat, he nodded. He hoped he would be able to keep that promise. Boba sat down across from him. 

"You ever take the besker off around anyone before?"

Din snapped his head back up to the other man, shaken a bit from the sudden change in topic. He was looking at him appraisingly, as if trying to see through the helmet. 

"Fennec told me."

He shook his head. "Not until Morak. I had to take it off to get the coordinates for the light cruiser. Not before. And..." he looked back at the gear knob in his hands. 

"Hmm. Must have been some upbringing. My father, I told you he was a foundling too. Like you. After the Mandalorian civil wars were over he turned to Bounty Hunting, like us. When I was a boy, we lived on Kamino with the cloners. He didn't wear his beskar all the time. It was armor, for battle, for bounty hunting, for going out into the world. When he was with me, when he interacted with the cloners and other… guests, he was Jango Fett. Showing his face, having a normal life didn't make him any less the Mandalorian. A warrior is more than his armor."

At the beginning of Boba's abrupt story, Din was confused why he was sharing this. Now he thought he understood. 

"So, Cara Dune tells me we are headed to Sorgan. Is this where you want to go?"

Thankful for the change of topic, Din pocketed the metal ball.

"Yes. That's… that's home."

And with a small smile, he realized it was. He finally thought he knew the answer to Cara's questions. 

"You have people there?"

Thinking of Omera, a happy thought, possibilities of a life, he smiled wider.

"Yes. I do."

Fett nodded and smiled down at his feet.

"Sorgan it is then." 

<DO>

He had told Boba to put the Slave down near the village, where he had landed the last time he was there. As soon as he’d opened the hatch, greeted by the familiar woods and the faint path to the village, Din felt tension begin to leave his body. Cara was right, this was where he belonged. 

"Are you sure this is where you want to be? You could always come with us to Tatooine." 

Fennec looked skeptically at the trees and mossy, damp earth. 

Boba Fett held out his hand and Din took it, gripping his forearm. "This is where he wants to be Fennec. Don't worry, I'm sure our paths will cross again. Goodbye, friend."

"Goodbye, and thank you for your help." Boba nodded and stepped back to Fennec who draped a hand on his shoulder and leaned against him. She shot Din a smirk when he inclined his head to her. 

"Well, Din, keep a flagon of spotchka for me. I'll visit soon. Maybe we'll have something to celebrate by then." Cara stood with her hands on her hips, a suggestive smile splitting her face as he turned to her. "Tell Omera I said, 'you're welcome.'" 

He couldn't stop the laugh, or the blush that burned up his face. It was a good thing he had his helmet on. "Are you sure you don't want to stay and tell her yourself?"

She snorted and shook her head emphatically. "No way, I think I'll just let the two of you get on with it. You don’t need me around for that." 

Despite her jest, she sobered when she offered her hand. "Try not to worry about the kid too much. I've heard a lot about that Jedi, Luke Skywalker, he's in good hands." 

Din blinked away the sudden burning in his eyes and nodded. "I know…"

"Wait a minute. You never said that was the guy. Are you sure it was Skywalker?" Fett looked a little manic but before Cara could answer, a shout drew their attention. 

"Din!! Din, I  _ knew _ it was you! You came back!"

Winta came pelting through the trees along the path towards the ship. 

"Winta!"

Din barely made it down the ramp before she was on him. She threw her skinny arms around his waist in such a rush his hands came up to grip her shoulder and pat her head before he had time to think about it. 

"Hey, Winta." 

"I missed you, Din." Suddenly unsure of herself, she lowered her voice and looked up into his visor. "Is that ok?" 

Chest tight with suppressed emotions, he managed a choked sounding laugh.

"Ya, kid. It is. I missed you too."

She grinned up at him. "Momma will be so glad you're back, she missed you too. Even more than I did, I think."

Cara chuckled behind him and said something to Fennec, explaining who the girl was no doubt. Their conversation about the Jedi well and truly forgotten. 

At the sound of others, Winta peaked cautiously around Din and stared up at the ship and the other three people. Recognizing Cara, she waved shyly. Cara waved back.

"Hey, kid." 

Seeming to realize something, she looked up at Din with worried eyes. "What happened to your ship, Din?" 

He sighed. "Vaporized by a much larger one. Thankfully not while I was on it."

Her jaw fell open and she glanced around him again. Clearly looking for Grogu and not seeing him, panic watered her now wide eyes when she looked up at him again. He held up a hand to stave off her tears.

"No, he's ok. He's safe. He's just…" he sighed again, trying not to dwell on the pain just then. "We found the Jedi. His people. Where he belongs."

She let out a long, relieved breath and hugged him tighter. "Well I'll miss him. Are  _ you _ ok?" 

Beneath his helmet, Din squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed thickly. "I think I will be." He looked back down at her and wiped a stray tear from her cheek, causing her to smile sadly up at him. 

"Winta! 

Omera. 

His helmet snapped up to find her, coming into view between the trees clearly having been chasing after her daughter. Her hair was down and falling into her face as she ran.

"Winta! You can't just run into the woods like that, you have no idea… it could be dangerous. Winta, where are…"

When she saw him standing there, one arm still wrapped around Winta, Omera stumbled to a halt, hand reaching out to catch herself on a nearby tree. She gasped and a beautiful smile lit her face.

"Din!"

Dropping his arm from Winta’s shoulders—missing the giggling smile she sent Cara behind him and the smug nod she received in return—he took three long strides and was standing in front of Omera. Seeing her again, after he’d left her a second time, after he'd missed her as badly as he had from the moment he'd lost sight of her on the way to his ship, Din suddenly felt unsure of his reception. She was still smiling up at him as he stood a foot away from her, hands hanging awkwardly at his side, and that gave him courage.

"You came back." 

Taking another step, closing the distance between them, he nodded. "I did." 

When he noticed her glance around him, a slight frown bending her brow, he answered her unasked question. 

"I found the Jedi. Or rather, they found us. He's ok"

She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, before he lost his nerve, Din reached up and pulled off his helmet. It hit the damp mossy ground beside him with a squelching thud that sounded final, decisive.

Whatever she planned to say turned to shocked sputtering and she quickly squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face down. "Din! What are you… you can't.. I thought…"

Unable and unwilling to turn back and hoping she'd like what she saw, he ran a thumb down the side of her face, tucking a twisted lock of hair behind her ear. Keeping his voice low to hide how it shook, he slid two fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at him. 

"Omera, it's ok. Look at me, please."

Slowly, breathing as shakily as he was, she did. In the seconds that her dark eyes darted around his face as she took him in, the riot of nerves in Din’s chest threatened cowardice. But then the corners of her lips turned up and her slender, lightly calloused hand found purchase on his cheek. He somehow managed to bite back the groan of pleasure at the feel of her warm skin on his, but his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into her. Such a simple touch, but her heat felt like relief from a pain he didn't know he had. 

"Din…" her voice was thick and barely more than a whisper. "I missed you."

Looking down at her, staring up at him with wonder, his voice broke around his desperate reply.

"I… I missed you too, Omera. So much."

Tears slid down her cheeks even as her smile grew. He frowned and brought his hands up to cup her face, tenderly brushing them away with his thumbs.

"Are you ok?"

A short, happy laugh slipped free and she nodded. 

"Yes, Din. I'm just happy. I didn’t think I'd ever see you again." Nodding with understanding, a relieved smile spread up his face. "What about your creed?"

He huffed a laugh, trying to focus on their conversation and not get completely lost in the utter brilliant heat of her skin on his. "It's a long story." Clearing his throat, he looked down at her seriously. "Omera… I'd like to stay this time. If that's still okay?"

"For how long?"

He hated himself for giving her cause to doubt him.

"As long as you'll have me."

Before he could blink, her other hand that had curled over the top edge of his breastplate tugged him closer until she was flush against him. The hand on his cheek slid into his hair and pulled his head down and suddenly, she was kissing him.

Anything he might have been imagining, all thoughts fled his mind. The intense feeling of her lips on his, of her nails scratching gently along his scalp, it was almost too much. The heat from before turned to a bright white shock that raced down his spine. Dazed from the thrill of it and too inexperienced to react for a solid five seconds, he must have made her doubt because she pulled back slightly with a vaguely apologetic smile. Brain finally catching up, he didn't give her the chance to apologize and crashed his lips back to hers. 

Her arms wound around his neck, both hands tangling in his hair. One of his hands slid from her face to wrap around her waist and hold her against him. It was more sensation than he could remember feeling at once and this time he couldn’t hold back the groan. He was sure he wasn't doing it right, but the way she clung to him gave him confidence. 

Cara let out a loud 'woop' from the ship behind them and they finally pulled apart, both laughing softly. Din dropped his forehead to hers, breathing heavily and trying to banish the ridiculous weakness he felt in his knees and the spots beginning to form behind his eyes. Finally certain he wouldn't embarrass himself, they turned around together, his arm still around her waist, Omera laughed harder when she caught sight of Cara. She looked as smug and self satisfied as he’d ever seen her, as if she were personally responsible for bringing them together. 

Before she could shout anything down at them, Winta rushed up, stopping just in front of Din. All traces of giggling smiles were gone as she stared up at him, glassy eyes wide and serious. 

"Does this mean… are you staying this time?"

Kneeling so he was face to face with her, he smiled reassuringly. "Do you want me to stay, Winta?"

She looked up at her mother for a moment before the bright smile she'd worn earlier flooded back and she nodded. "Yes!"

His smile widened too. "Good, because I'm staying this time, Winta."

When she threw her arms around his neck with a happy shout, he was ready for it and hugged her back properly. Her curls tickled his face and her little cheek pressed against his was a different feeling to her mother’s but it still stoked the happiness in his chest that told him he had made the right choice in coming back. 

Pulling away abruptly, she darted around him to pick up his helmet and bounced anxiously over to the path. 

"Come on! Let's go home."

Omera waved to Cara on the ship, who waved back at her, and with one last blinding smile in his direction, followed her daughter. Din only watched them go for a moment before he turned back to the ship with a final nod farewell. 

<DO>

Cara couldn't help the smile as she watched her friend go, following the family he'd finally accepted into his life as they headed home. 

"He's going to be just fine." Fennec met her eye with a mischievous grin before turning back into the ship. Beside her, Boba Fett was nodding to himself. 

"He's a lucky man. He will miss his boy, but his woman and her girl will ease the ache I think." Cara snorted. "And you," he turned an accusing finger in her direction. "Don't think I've forgotten about Skywalker. I have questions!" 

Now she laughed outright. "Sure you do, old man. It's a long flight to Navarro, bother me all you want on the way." He grumbled but followed her into his ship. The sooner she got back to Navarro, the sooner she would get her well earned vacation. 

End Part 1!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Koska steps forward and says to Din: You are a (literal translation) son of Mandalore. You are the Mand'alor. You must lead your tribe/family/people.
> 
> Din responds: I am going to my family/tribe. I am no Mand'alor. (literal translation of 'goodbye' phrase) Maybe we'll meet again. 
> 
> Bo says takes the literal translation to heart and says: Maybe we'll meet again.


	9. stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it was fun while it lasted. I was hit over the head with one of my infrequent bouts of depression as I walked out of work this afternoon. IDK if it will make writing easier or harder this time. we will see. I went through this chapter one last time and was over thinking every thing. It's repetitive and fluffy and idk if you'll like it. fuck. And I am stuck on another part and I need to watch Rebels before I get much farther anyway because I have no idea what is going on circa ABY 9 on Mandalore and I want to keep anything I BS as close to cannon/legends as I can. If anyone knows what that scene looks like I'd love to hear it. But part two is basically 98% fluff.  
> I wanted to say thank you to everyone for all of the amazing comments. they make me happy. Special shout out to HolmesFan. I hope this makes you feel better!

**Part II**

**Chapter 9**

**-stories-**

A smile played about the corners of Din’s mouth and lingered in his eyes as he watched Winta bounce along ahead of them, humming to herself as if all was right in her world. For the first time since he’d come into their lives, Omera allowed herself to believe it could be true. As they walked away from the ship that had brought him home and towards the village, she wondered at the implications for their relationship and their lives. 

She hadn't meant to kiss him, but when he'd said that he wanted to stay as long as she would have him, she couldn't help herself. For a moment, she thought that she might have crossed a line he wasn't prepared for. Then he'd kissed her back. It was clumsy at first but filled with a desperate need that stole her breath. She knew he wanted her, them, whatever this was between them as badly as she did. But what would that look like? 

As the back of his gloved hand grazed hers, she realized that she had never even seen his bare hands. Looking down at it, swaying at his side as he walked along just beside her, she suddenly wanted very badly to peel off the gloves and touch his hands. Omera wanted to peel off the gloves, each piece of armor and the dark flight-suit beneath and touch every inch of him. Kriff. 

Heat raced up her neck and burned across her face and she looked away so he wouldn't see. Neither of them were ready for that. They'd only just established that he was staying, that he was staying for her and for Winta. Kriff, where was he going to sleep? Offering the barn felt like a step backwards but she didn't think he would want to share her bed. At least, not yet. 

His hand brushed hers again but this time he didn't let it fall away. Even through the glove, his hand was warm and reassuring when he slid it into hers, twining their fingers. Omera snapped back to meet his questioning gaze, hair whipping around her face. 

"Is this ok?" 

Oh but he made her feel like she was a teenager again, flirting with a boy for the very first time. He looked so uncharacteristically nervous, asking to hold her hand. It made her wonder what his helmet had hidden every time she had touched him before. Sure he could see her flush even in the shadows cast by the canopy, Omera smiled. 

"Yes, it is, Din." His answering smile made her want to kiss him all over again. 

Both so caught up in each other, neither one of them noticed Winta turn to face them. They didn't see as she walked backwards, still clutching his helmet, and smiled at their linked hands and ridiculous grins. They missed the smile evolve into something Din would have thought more at home on Cara as she turned around. Not until she stopped humming and intentionally broke the relative silence of their walk did their heads swivel around to her, both of them blushing furiously. 

"Momma, since Din is going to stay this time, I don't think he should sleep in the barn. Especially as it's winter." She peeked over her shoulder at them, her face the picture of innocent concern. "What if he gets cold?"

For a long moment, neither one of them spoke. She glanced at him sidelong to see him watching her as well. Unable to do anything else, Omera chuckled and shook her head. She tried to match her daughter's serious tone when she responded. 

"You're right sweetheart, it isn't the right time of year for sleeping in barns." She looked over at him fully and had to bite back a groan at the blush and crooked grin he wore. 

Winta nodded sagely. "We  _ could  _ build him his own house, like everyone else's but… that will take  _ ages _ and can you even build houses in winter?"

Positive that was nonsense, Omera decided to humor her daughter anyway. "It sounds like you may have a suggestion, Winta?"

"Well, he can just stay with us obviously. He can sleep in my room and I can sleep with you!" 

Oh her precious daughter. Everything was so simple and obvious to children. Suddenly and very keenly, she felt the absence of  _ his _ child. He said they'd found a Jedi and that he was safe. Omera wondered how  _ he _ was. Here she was thinking about getting him out of his besker and Din was probably hurting over the loss of his son. Frustrated at her insensitivity, she looked up, watching him fluster his way to a response for Winta, and hoped he would find the peace he sought with them. She would do everything she could to give him every happiness he deserved. 

"I wouldn't want to make you give up your room, Winta. I'm sure I'll be ok in the barn."

She spun around and smiled broadly as she continued walking backwards. 

"Don't worry, I can sleep with Momma for a while." 

Din looked to her for help, brows knit in question, lips still half smiling. Smothering the laugh that threatened again, Omera cleared her throat and affected the serious air once more. 

"Hmm. Well… Winta makes a lot of good points and, although she is much too old to be sleeping with her Momma," she met her daughter's eye and winked "it is the only acceptable option I can see."

Huffing a laugh and squeezing her hand a little tighter, Din nodded in acceptance and smiled up at Winta. "Alright Winta. If you're sure you don't mind."

She beamed up at him and went back to humming. 

Yes. Perhaps all would be right in their world.

<DO>

  
  


Din had been nervous to walk through the village. The usual commotion his arrival brought with it would be intensified by his exposed face and missing child. Winta had asked him if he wanted to put his helmet back on but he declined. He wanted to stay, to make a life for himself here with Omera and her daughter. That would never work if he kept his helmet on. Or the rest of his beskar, no matter how anxious it made him to be so exposed. He didn't know what they’d ask of him as a permanent resident, but sitting around playing guard duty didn't seem useful or appealing. 

Thankfully, when they breach the treeline, there were few people out. Omera never dropped his hand as they wound the way between the ponds toward her home and they made it halfway there before someone called out to them. 

"Omera!"

They both turn to see Hannah approach from Omera’s side, carrying a basket of some kind of grain. 

"We brought this month's supply back from town while you were gone and…. Oh holy krill feed." 

The other woman's jaw fell open when she caught sight of him, eyes going back and forth between his beskar and his face. 

"You're the… oh…. and you do have a face?" She leaned closer to Omera, eyes wide with surprise and muttered something he didn't quite catch. Whatever it was made Omera's free hand fly to her face.

"Oh Hannah! Shh you!" 

Impatient to get home and clearly confused by the comment she must have heard, Winta reached out to tug at his other hand. The movement drew Hannah's eye to where Omera's hand still clung to his and a knowing smirk was the last thing they saw of her as she darted away with a shouted, "welcome back, Mandalorian" over her shoulder.

He looked down at Omera curiously, her hand still covered her face but she was giggling softly so it couldn't be too bad.

"What did she say?" She glanced at him between her fingers and her soft laughter turned to sputtering coughs as her blush intensified. 

"Oh, nothing important, just… something about climbing trees."

At his other side, Winta wondered out loud. "Din isn't a tree. Grown ups are weird."

The deep flush on Omera's face spread across his own as he pieced together what the other woman had said. Shaking his head, he smiled down at Winta. 

"Ya, kid. They can be."

<>

Just like he knew she'd be, Winta was full of questions as they ate dinner. Not ready to face the entire village, Omera brought their meal back to her home and they talked as they ate. He started to tell them what he had done since leaving them. Well, at least the parts he thought Winta should hear. She had been wide eyed with fear for him, her small hands gripping his vambrace, as he told them about the krayt dragon. 

"It ate you! You were INSIDE a DRAGON, Din!" 

Din laughed softly at her dramatics. Glancing across the table at Omera, both of her brows lost in her hair, he stifled the laugh. 

"It didn't  _ eat _ me. I got it to spit me out before it blew."

Omera let out a sigh that was almost a laugh. "Well. I'm glad you're alright. Where did you go next?"

They had both been suitably impressed that he had been able to out maneuver the X-Wing flying New Republic officers and Omera had winced in sympathy at the mention of being trapped in the ice and snow. After the bit about the massive spiders, Winta had hugged him again, declared she was glad he was alive and home. Omera had put her to bed after that. 

Once they were alone, nerves fluttered in Din’s gut. He had never had a relationship like this before and had no idea how to do it. What would she expect from him? When she’d kissed him, it had felt like every nerve in his body had lit up all at once. After saying goodbye to Grogu, her touch was the first he had known since he was a boy. After all of the dangers he'd faced in his life, it seemed ridiculous that physical intimacy with someone he cared for so much should be his undoing. 

She sat beside him on a low sofa, both of them facing one another, and looked up into his eyes. The wonder that had been there the first time she’d seen his face was back as her hand came up to stroke his cheek again. And just like the first time, she was warm and soft and made him ache for things that for the first time in his life he believed he could have.

"You said it was a long story, about your creed. Would you tell me?"

He nodded slowly, reaching up to take her hand in his. Staring down at it between his two gloved hands, Din wasn't sure where to start. 

"It is a long story. I told you how I was raised by the Mandalorians who found me after my parents had been killed. They trained me, taught me about our people and our history, gave me a helmet and told me to never take it off in front of others. And until recently I never had any thought about that other than, I am a Mandalorian and this is the way." He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment and sighed. 

"When I was here before, the reason I left… Besides needing to find the Jedi, being here with you made me start to question that way." He looked up to meet her breathless gaze. "For the first time, I wanted all of the things the creed I had vowed my life to wouldn’t allow me to have." Still watching her closely, Din didn't miss the guilt that filled her eyes before she dropped them to their joined hands. 

"Din…"

Her fingers traced the fastenings on his gloves and before he could reply a rush of breath stirred her hair where it hung in front of her. "Is it wrong that it makes me happy to know I tempted you? That you felt some of what I was feeling too?" She looked up at him with a guilty smile. 

He couldn't help but answer with a pleased tilt of his own mouth. 

"I guess not."

Her smile widened. "So what changed for you after you left?"

His half smile slipped as he remembered. 

"I was so confused at first. After everything my clan sacrificed for me I felt like a traitor for even thinking about staying. But… then I found other Mandalorians. Three of them. Only they weren't like me. They weren't like the clan that raised me." She tilted her head to the side, her eyes questioning. "After they finished saving me from getting eaten… again," she scoffed and shook her head in exasperation "they took their helmets off and introduced themselves. Like it was no big deal. When I… expressed my confusion they said I'd been raised by exiled zealots. Apparently there are more of us left than I'd been raised to believe and they aren't all so strict."

She sucked in a breath. "I'm sure that was difficult to learn. I'm sorry, Din."

Remembering what she had told him of her own upbringing, daughter of an Imperial officer, trained to support their war machine only to realize too late what she was a part of. It was a bit different, but he thought she might understand a little bit of what he had felt. 

"It was… I was so angry and confused. I wanted to deny who they were but I couldn't. One of them, Bo-Katan, claimed she has the right to rule our people. Or I guess...she had." 

"What do you mean? Is she dead?"

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. "No. I'm sure you will meet her at some point. I doubt she'll leave me in peace forever."

When she gave him a concerned look he raised a hand placatingly and reached over to unclip the Darksaber from his belt where it hung on the back of the chair he'd sat in earlier. 

When he held it, balanced on his hand in front of her she gasped. 

"Is that a lightsaber? Like the Jedi use? Din, where did you get that?"

Shaking his head and holding it safely to the side, he ignited the blade. Its strange glow illuminated the dimly lit room.

"Not quite. This is the Darksaber. I guess at some point there was a Mandalorian who became a Jedi. This belonged to him. Apparently it's been kind of.. passed from one Mand'alor to the next. Won in combat, never given… unfortunately." 

"Mand'alor?"

"Hmm, the leader of all Mandalore."

She scoffed and gave him an incredulous look. "So this what, makes you king of the Mandalorians or something?"

When he only smiled ruefully back at her, her jaw fell open and her eyes went impossibly wide. "Din… Din, are you… You're serious? Din?"

He shook his head. "Whoever wields this technically has the right to rule but… I have no idea if the planet is even livable and what remains of our people are scattered. Besides, I'm not a leader. I don't want any part of that."

Omera’s shock turned thoughtful as she stared at him. "So, this Bo-Katan woman didn't take it from you? How did you even get it anyway?"

He let out a long suffering sigh, deactivating the blade and putting it away. "I told you it was a long story."

**Outtakes**

  
_This is what I wrote when I couldn't write this chapter. It helped me order my thoughts. It's cussy and anachronistic but it made me laugh so here it is for you_

Where tf would this shy sexy bitch sleep? Surely he wouldn't be ready to sleep with her. She would have climbed him like the sexy Chilean tree he was if she thought he was ready for that but the way he had reacted when she kissed him made her think they might take things slow. And that was OK. She knew how much she cared about him. Shit, it wouldn’t take much of a push to fall completely in love with him

The sexy space gunslinger that he was. Damn and he was fine as fuck. When she had imagined what he looked like under the helmet before, well he had well surpassed her expectations. That mustache though. She loved a man with facial hair but how tf did he keep it so nice? Why bother? With the helmet? Not that she was complaining now that it was off but still. It was confusing. But she was glad he came back to her. He hadn't had his son with him. Omera supposed that he had found the Jedi after all. Poor sod. He was probably hurting too and here she was imagining all the ways she wanted to show him how to touch her. Insensitive bitch. 

Still. She wanted to marry the sexy fuck and give him all the sons he could want. She wasn't that old. She knew he would always have a little big eared whole in his heart but she could fill up all the space around it with love and light and all the family he could want.


	10. heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I was away from my computer today thanks to a winter storm. ANYWAY here you all go. more fluff. Thanks for all the kind words. I had a restful weekend and I am feeling better today.

**Chapter 10**

**-Heat-**

A long story indeed. Din had only been gone for two months but he'd nearly been eaten three times and somehow gained a special Mandalorian lightsaber and rule of a whole planet. Omera wasn't sure how much more he could have managed. 

"After the first time I met Bo-Katan and helped her steal an Imperial remnant ship," What in the galaxy did she need an Imperial ship for? "she told me about a Jedi she knew and where to find her. So, after a stop in Navarro to repair my ship and help Cara and a couple of other friends I have there, I went to find her. When I found her, I had to help  _ her _ too and then she spent some time with Grogu…. Oh, that's his name by the way, my… son. She could communicate with him somehow." 

For a moment, he grew quiet and looked down at their hands. When his eyes closed and his breathing began to shudder Omera reached up to cup his face, scooting as close as she could without climbing into his lap. Something between a hiss and a sob choked free as he pressed into her touch.

"Din, are you ok?"

Slowly, he opened his eyes to look back at her. They were filled with unshed tears but a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth

"She said… she wouldn't train him because he was too attached to me, that I was a father to him. I don't…" His voice broke and the first tear slipped free. Omera wiped it away and pressed her forehead to his. "Dammit I miss that kid."

A few more tears joined the first and Omera wiped them away too, holding onto him and comforting him the best that she could.

"Oh, Din."

He reached up, holding her hand to his face, turning slightly to brush his lips against her palm. After a few moments, he sighed and looked like he wanted to go on.

"Din, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Clearing his throat, he shook his head and pulled her hand back to his lap.

"I want to tell you. It's important. Besides, I want you to understand what happened if… when Bo-Katan decides to track me down and bother me about it."

Omera nodded and settled against the sofa, still gripping his hand. 

"The Jedi, she sent us to an ancient Jedi temple on Tython. I set him on this big stone on top of a mountain like she said. I don't know what I was expecting to happen but…"

He sighed again and scratched the back of his head with his free hand.

"He did some kind of Jedi thing and there was this… blue force field around him. I couldn't touch him. While he was doing whatever he was doing, we got company. The true owner of the beskar I got on Tatooine finally tracked me down and while I was dealing with him two squads of stormtroopers showed up." 

Omera's jaw fell open in shock. "Stormtroopers?"

"The guy who the besker belonged to, Boba Fett, he and his companion and I fought them off but while we were doing that, half a dozen dark trooper droids dropped down from what turned out to be a light cruiser. They were after Grogu."

Even though she knew Grogu had to have survived what ever happened on Tython, Omera’s chest tightened with nerves for them. It was clear by the look on Din’s face that whatever had happened, he felt immeasurable guilt over it. 

“I tried to get to him, but I was too far down the mountain and they got there before I could. Of course he had stopped whatever it was that made the force field. If only I had been just a little bit faster.” Shaking his head, frustration and self loathing twisted his features. 

“Before we went to Tython, we stopped in Navarro. Cara and another friend there asked me for my help clearing out the last remnant holdout on the planet. It was supposed to be mostly empty, an old mine or something. It turned out to be a secret lab. There were bodies…” A shudder ran through him. “I don’t know what they were trying to accomplish but it had something to do with Grogu and the blood sample they took when I turned him in initially. I hate to think what they might have been doing to him after the droids took him on Tython." 

Omera felt sick at the thought too... she could only guess at the kinds of things Imperial scientists might do. 

"While we were there, we found a recent transmission from the scientist to the man we thought we killed, the man behind the experiments and the original bounty. Moff Gideon. I thought I killed him the last time we’d been there, before I came back the last time. Turns out he managed to survive and was still hunting for Grogu. It was his cruiser and troopers on Tython.” 

Suddenly he looked back up at her, eyes serious. “Omera, I promise if I’d known he was still out there I never would have risked you by coming back. If he'd found us here…”

Frowning, Omera realized how lucky they had been. A rogue Moff with a light cruiser and stormtroopers? If they had dropped out of the sky over their village they would have been obliterated. “Where is he now? You came back so I’m assuming he’s been dealt with this time?”

Din dipped his head, glancing over at the Darksaber where it hung before looking up at her again. “He won't be a problem for us again. Although, he did destroy my ship…" 

Omera gasped and reached up, gripping his shoulder. "Oh, Din. I'm so sorry. I did wonder but... Oh that's terrible." When he raised an incredulous brow, she sighed. "Well I'm assuming you managed to save your son, you already told me he was safe with a Jedi. Your ship though…" 

A slight smile crinkled his eyes before it fell and he continued. "Boba Fett and his companion, an assassin that used to work for the Hutts, offered to help me. We gathered a few other people to help, blew up another remnant mine on the way, and went for it. Bo-Katan and another Mandalorian were with us. She wanted the ship and a go at Gideon, for the Darksaber it turned out. Unfortunately for her, he was waiting for me with Grogu. While she and the others took the bridge,  _ I  _ ended up fighting him. I saved my son, won the Darksaber and brought Gideon to the bridge." 

He sighed as he toyed with her hand. "There was an entire squadron of the Dark Trooper droids on the ship. I barely managed to destroy the one that escaped before I sent the rest out the airlock. Well. As they're droids, the vacuum of space didn't really hurt them. They all managed to get back on the ship and we would have been wiped out if the Jedi hadn't shown up. Just one of those droids was enough for me. He… he destroyed every one of them like it was nothing. With his lightsaber and that… Jedi magic hand thing they do." 

A little stunned that he had met  _ two _ Jedi when she’d believed them extinct, Omera almost wished she could have been there. "He must be very powerful."

Din nodded solemnly, brows drawn together. The pain that had nearly overcome him earlier seemed to threaten again and he didn't say anymore for a long moment. When he did, his voice was rough and barely more than a whisper. 

"He said he would give his life to protect Grogu. I know he will be safe with him, I know it was the right thing to do. He needs to be trained and I can't do that for him…" He took a deep breath. "I took my helmet off when we said goodbye. All that time, the creed… it was the first time he’d seen my face and it was to say goodbye." 

Her heart ached, seeing the pain and conflict on his face. "Din…"

"Anyway, he'll be safe with Skywalker and he will get to learn all the things he needs to be safe." 

He made a valiant effort at a proud smile but Omera was stuck on the name he had just dropped. 

"Um.. did you say Skywalker? Luke Skywalker? Is that who you mean?"

"Yes, why?" He looked confused, head cocked to the side in question. "Don't tell me you knew a Jedi this whole time."

Holding up her hands placatingly, she shook her head.

"No, not really. I mean…  _ Commander _ Skywalker was on Hoth when I was. And he carried a Lightsaber but I didn't know he was actually a Jedi. I don't think I said more than five words to him personally. And as far as I knew they were extinct. He could have picked it up somewhere… Besides I would have had no idea how to tell you to find him." Now that she was thinking about it, she realized that she could have given him something. 

"Unless you wanted to go to the New Republic capital and ask someone that was close to him. Though getting an audience with Princess Leia Organa probably wouldn't have been easy. I'm sorry Din, I didn't think of that until just now. I should have said something when you were here before."

He looked so shocked, Omera had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. It definitely wasn't an appropriate response just then. 

"No… I don't think that would have worked. The New Republic had a warrant for my arrest actually. I think I've got that sorted now but… waltzing into the capital likely would have gotten me thrown on some prison planet." 

She let out a relieved sigh when he took her hands again and the corners of his mouth turned up.

"I think it had to happen the way it did. Grogu and I had more time together this way, even if it was a bit… chaotic. Besides, I might not have met Bo-Katan otherwise. If I hadn't met her I never would have learned the truth about our people and I don't know if I ever would have allowed myself to come back to you."

Omera chuckled softly. "Well then, remind me to thank her when she turns up someday."

A tender affection lit his eyes then that made her feel like she was on fire. She didn't know if it was how he always would have been, or if never having to hide his expressions before had made him so open, but Omera could see everything he didn't say in the way he was looking at her. Everything he felt for her, everything he was finally letting himself hope for, letting himself have, it was all there in his eyes. 

Her own eyes burned even as she smiled softly at him. She wanted desperately to kiss him again. Instead she looked down at his hands, still holding her own, and fingered the fastenings on his gloves. "Can I take these off?" 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he turned his right hand over, giving her better access to the clasp that held the glove in place. Hardly breathing, Omera undid the clasp and slowly slid it off. There was a long, thin silver scar running along the heel of his thumb and another at the base of his little finger. She lightly traced each one, causing his hand to shake slightly at the naked contact. Reaching out for his other hand, she carefully removed that glove too. There weren't any scars on his left palm, just smooth skin and a small dark freckle on the outside of his index finger. 

Glancing up to gauge his reaction, Omera wondered how often he used his bare hands. He was staring down at her with such careful intensity, as if it took everything he had to contain his reaction. Staring back just as intently, she slid her hands along the back of his. A ragged breath tore free and his chest rose and fell rapidly as she lifted his hands to her face. 

His touch was so warm, his gaze so reverent, Omera’s eyes fluttered closed to keep from weeping. It had been so long since anyone had touched her like this, she couldn’t remember if it should feel this way. Surely just his hands grazing tenderly along her face, sliding down her neck and into her hair shouldn't make her feel as if she were on fire. 

"Omera…" His breath was a warm caress as close as he was. She opened her eyes to see his dark, wide blown pupils fixed on her mouth. When his thumb traced across her upper lip, Omera thought she might die if he didn't kiss her. 

"Din...kiss me. Please."

His eyes met hers for barely a second before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. She groaned softly against him and reached up to thread her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. Like before, he started off unsure. But he let her lead and soon he was kissing her like it was something he was always meant to do. 

His right hand slid down her back, encircling her waist, and a deep groan rumbled in his chest as he drew her onto his lap. Bandolier and holsters all long-since removed, Omera adjusted her skirts and fitted her thighs around his hips and pressed herself against his breastplate. The edges of his thigh guards bit into her backside but she hardly noticed. It was too much and not enough all at once. His warm, strong hands clung to her—one gripping her hip the other on her neck—and Omera never wanted him to stop touching her. 

When they eventually broke apart, her forehead pressed to his, both of them were breathing hard and clinging to the other. She smiled and let out a breathy laugh as he stared up at her with wonder. Suddenly his head fell back against the sofa and he let out a tight gasp.

"Omera… I think.. I might be... in danger of passing out."

She bit down on her lip and apologized, not at all sorry. "Are you going to be alright?"

Then he nodded shakily, a slow smile forming. "Yes. I… I'm sorry. It’s just…" he sighed, his breathing returning to normal. "A little overwhelming, almost too much. But also… not enough?" The slight confused frown made her want to laugh and kiss him again.

"I think I might know what you mean." She did kiss him then, a chaste peck on his cheek. "Although I could sit here kissing you all night, maybe we should get to bed."

Din smiled blearily up at her. "Ya. Maybe we should."

Gingerly climbing off his lap to stand, Omera gripped his hands and tugged him to his feet. They walked the few steps to the curtained off bedrooms and Omera turned into him. He held her as she reached up to his face once more. This kiss was soft and full of promise for tomorrow and every day after that.

"Goodnight, Omera."

"Goodnight, Din."


	11. future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI. so. 2 things. first a lot of you have mentioned that you like the slow burn romance they have going on. I hope I'm not about to torpedo that too badly. I don't want to spend 15 chapters on the next 6 months having them slowly fall in love and get together for real. I don't think that is believable for the characters and the story I have set up so far and there is a lot of plot to get to so. I hope the way I have done the rest of this section of this story isn't a huge turn off.   
> 2nd thing. I hate that I have to say this but I'm no taking Cara out of my story. I have 70k words written already and she is a pretty important part of it. great thing about reading is you can imagine characters however you want. If this turns you off my fic, sorry. No matter what you think of the actress, the character is a hilarious, strong, independent female and the show will be less for her loss. A recast would be a little weird but I hope they take that route.

**Chapter 11**

**-future-**

The low hum of conversation and children's laughter filtered in with the morning light between the slats in the window over Din’s head. Blinking slowly, it took him a moment to remember where he was. Then Omera’s voice sounded from the other side of the curtained doorway, a harsh whisper as though she didn't want to disturb him. 

"Hush, Winta. Get to lessons. He will be here when you get back, sweetheart. Let him sleep."

Omera. He had come back to Sorgan, to her. Relaxing back into the bed, more comfortable than he'd slept in for years, relief filled him as he rubbed a hand across his eyes. Winta’s grumbled reply was too low for him to hear but he didn't miss the rapid beat of her footsteps as she raced out of the house. Realizing how late he'd slept, Din felt bad for missing her but he had been exhausted. 

Deciding he had slept long enough, he rolled to the edge of the bed and sat up. All he owned in the world were the things he'd been carrying when he’d stepped off Fett's ship. His spare clothes, limited in style though they were, had been destroyed with his ship so he had slept in the tight, thin pants he wore under his flight-suit. Looking at the piled besker, Din sighed in frustration. It didn't feel right to put it back on, not now that he'd decided to stay. He didn't know how to be anything but a bounty hunter, but he wanted to try. 

A soft rap on the doorframe pulled him from his thoughts. Omera called out to him. 

"Are you awake, Din?" 

A slow smile worked its way up his face and he told her to come in. She entered with a basket on her hip, and started to greet him. 

"Good morning… Din…"

The rest was forgotten as a blush colored her cheeks and her eyes widened slightly. A look he couldn’t quite bring himself to name flashed across her face as she took him in and Din remembered he'd slept half naked.

"Um.. sorry I… well here." She was looking determinedly at the basket in her arms. "Hannah, the gossip, must have told everyone you're back at dinner last night and well… I've got some things for you to wear. I know you hadn't brought anything else this time, what with your ship and…" Her eyes flicked back to him and her blush intensified. He was sure that he was as red as she was by now. "Unless you wanted to wear your besker. I'll just leave this here for you."

Before he could manage anything to say in reply, she flashed him an embarrassed smile and slid back out through the curtain. Breathing out a laugh, Din looked down at himself. Scars, some silver with age others pinker and more fresh, cut across his bare torso. Glancing up to where Omera had just been, he wondered if the look he'd seen in her eyes had been disgust. Idly, he scratched one of the newer ones on his bicep. 

She hadn't looked disgusted. Heat crept up his neck as he pictured the way she'd looked at him. At least, in the moment he hadn't thought so. But surely that would be the  _ correct  _ response. Looking over at the basket of borrowed clothes he decided not to worry about it just then. He hoped he looked alright in green. 

After he’d dressed and pulled on his boots, Din ventured out into the main room. Omera was standing at her counter facing away from him but she turned when she heard his heavy steps. Her smile filled with humor when she saw him. Leaning back against the counter, her hand covered her mouth to hold in a laugh. He tugged awkwardly at the wide, round collar and smiled self-deprecatingly. 

"I look ridiculous, don't I?"

She shook her head and walked towards him. 

"No, Din. It's just strange to see you in normal clothes, that's all. Here.." reaching up to adjust the collar, Omera pressed her hands against his chest. Warm even through the thick fabric, he hardly moved as she smoothed the rumpled bit down, afraid she would pull away if he did. But the blush from earlier returned as her hands stilled, and Din was certain she must be able to feel how his heart raced.

Hands still flat against his chest, she looked up and met his gaze. She was looking at him the same way she had when she’d come into his room earlier. Definitely not disgust. Heat spread across his skin from where she touched him and Din wanted to kiss her again. It was a bit embarrassing how such an innocuous touch made him feel like this but just then he didn't care. Not when she was looking at him like she felt the same. 

His hands came up to grip her waist, pulling her just a little bit closer as hers slid up to caress either side of his neck, trailing heat in their wake. Eyes dropping to her mouth, he leaned in. Like the night before, the brush of her soft lips against his sent shivers racing across his skin and blood rushing to his groin. And just like the night before, Din felt increasingly lightheaded and overwhelmed. He wanted more, he wanted to slow down, he wanted everything. 

When Omera gasped softly against him, she pulled back far enough that he could see the lust darkening her eyes. Din realized abruptly how much thinner the new pants were compared to his beskar laiden flight-suit. Heat crept up his neck as he strained against her hip. He dropped his forehead to hers and let out a shuddering breath. The friction was almost more than he could handle. 

"I'm sorry."

She was breathing heavily too. "No.. don't be." Breathing out a soft laugh, she turned to nuzzle the side of her face against his and press a kiss to the corner of his jaw. "It's ok, Din. I'm… glad it's not just me." 

He took a few deep breaths, nose buried in her hair and tried to get a hold of himself. Knowing she was as affected as he felt was decidedly unhelpful. 

"Omera, I don't… I've never had anything like this before. Every time you touch me I feel like… "

Drawing back slightly so she could look him in the eyes, Omera stroked his cheek and he hissed out a sharp breath between his teeth. She started to pull her hand away but he stopped her, keeping her there.

"No, don't stop. Please don't ever stop, Omera. I didn't know… I never realized how much I needed this." He reached for her other hand and brought it up to his face too. "It's just…" When he released a long, shuddering sigh, the look she wore told him she understood. 

"We'll go slow, Din. It's been a long time for me too." She leaned up and kissed him chastely on the lips but before she could release him completely a knock from the front door drew their attention. Thankfully Din was facing away from the door when Hannah slipped her head in around the heavy curtain. 

"Omera, are you busy? We need…" Din and Omera both looked over his shoulder at her and he paled, looking away when she smirked. 

"Well. I'm glad to see you found something to wear, Mr. Mandalorian. Those trousers fit you very nicely."

Omera scoffed and stepped around him.

"Oh, go ogle your own husband, Hannah."

The other woman chuckled to herself but didn't come any further in. "Oh I intend to, ogle him and then some." Din finally turned to face her, ears burning, to see Omera walking towards her friend, shaking her head and wearing an exasperated smile. 

"I apologize if I interrupted, Omera but we were wondering what your plans were for the day. There's not much to be done as you know, but some of us were thinking we should do something special to mark the end of the season considering how the year went and…" She looked to Din. "to welcome you. We're all glad you've decided to stay."

Her smile was knowing and exceedingly pleased as she looked between them. Still partially stuck on his and Omera’s previous conversation, Din couldn't think of anything to say to that and looked to Omera for help. She glanced back at him apologetically before responding to her friend. 

"That sounds great, Hannah. I'll join you later to help, ok?"

Nodding, Hannah turned to go, flashing Omera a smug grin. Before she was gone, Din thought of something to say and cleared his throat loud enough to get her attention. When she looked back at him expectantly, he momentarily missed his helmet. 

"My name is, Din." Her eyes widened minutely and flicked briefly to Omera. "Since I'm staying, I thought… you should know."

A less smug, more genuine smile split her face as she nodded again. "Thank you, Din. Like I said, we're all glad you're back." 

When she was gone and they were alone again, Din met Omera’s eye across the room. They were dancing with mirth and he released a tense breath as she walked back to stand in front of him. 

"I'm sorry about Hannah. She…" she laughed. "We've been friends since I came to Sorgan."

After spending so much time with Cara and especially some of their recent conversations, he thought he understood. It was a new feeling for him—having people that cared about his happiness—but it was welcome. 

<DO>

Working alongside the other women in the village to prepare for dinner was not as distracting as Omera would have thought. After Hannah's interruption earlier that morning, Din had joined some of the other men to work in the brew huts. They had come by not long after and claimed they needed to teach him how to brew spotchka if he was going to be staying. Personally, she wondered how much actual instruction there would be if they were behaving anything like the women. 

"Hannah wouldn't tell us anything after she stopped by to check on you this morning, Omera. He is staying with you, properly this time." When she didn't respond to the questioning glances with more than a blush and a badly hidden smile, the other women collectively groaned. 

"Omera, come on. Does this mean what we think it means?"

Another woman scoffed. "Oh please, of course it does. Tell us, Omera. How was it? Hannah wouldn't say but she was all smugness when she came back from yours."

Thankful for her friend's discretion, Omera flashed her a pleading look. Hannah shook her head, chuckling. "Honestly, Omera. I don't know why you're surprised. The mysterious warrior that's twice visited our village, spending more time in your company every day he was here suddenly turns up again, handsome face revealed and staying in your house. What did you think would happen? Of course everyone's curious." 

At Omera’s exasperated but good humored sigh, several of the women laughed but Hannah looked to her seriously and continued.

"You've lived here almost eight years, Omera and been alone besides your daughter that whole time. Other single men have come and gone during the harvest but no ones ever caught your eye. Now one has and it does seem very serious. And if we're being honest, he captured your heart before you even knew what he looked like. Although, with an ass like his, I'm not sure I would have been bothered about his face." 

Omera blushed deeply and glared half heartedly at her friend. "Hannah!"

She only scoffed. "Don't act like I didn't catch you staring at it the last time he was here. Look, I suppose it's really none of our business but you are our friend and we love you. Is it as serious as it seems? He came back, gave up his creed and is staying in your house. Should we be planning for another celebration feast?"

Collapsing back onto a bench and covering her face with her hands, Omera sighed. What did it mean? 

"We haven’t actually had a chance to talk about it. But…" A wide smile lit up her face. "I think.. it is quite serious."

As everyone dissolved into giddy fits as they went back to work, Hannah grabbed her hands and tugged her to her feet and into a hug. 

"I am happy for you, Omera."

They pulled back and smiled at each other and Omera opened her mouth to thank her friend when the tittering and chatter died. The sudden silence had the pair looking around in confusion until Hannah nudged Omera, the smug grin back. Omera looked in the direction she indicated and instantly felt heat return to her cheeks. Din stood in the doorway doing an admirable job of looking unbothered by so much attention, but Omera knew better. 

He shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "Ladies."

Omera wanted to laugh at the sudden innocent, serious atmosphere as every single one of them smiled and replied almost in unison. 

"Din."

A nervous smile tipped the corner of his mouth but his eyes sought hers with a slightly pleading edge. She did laugh then and Hannah pushed her towards him. 

"Go on then, we'll manage without you."

Still laughing as she reached Din, Omera took his hand and pulled him away. They were hardly three steps away when laughter and excited chatter erupted again. 

"Oh they're terrible." She looked over at him, hoping he wouldn't be offended that the other women had clearly been talking about him. He was blushing but the slight smile was still there as he looked down at her. "There will be something else to gossip about before long." 

He huffed an embarrassed laugh and squeezed her hand a little tighter. 

"So, what did you think of spotchka brewing?"

"Hmm, what can I say?" He looked up with a mock contemplative frown that turned into a shy smirk when he turned his head to look back to her. "It doesn't seem terribly difficult, but I got the feeling they were trying to tell me something completely unrelated to Spotchka. I'm not quite sure what it was though."

Omera couldn't help her laugh. "Oh no. What did they say?"

The blush hadn’t ever truly faded, but it darkened as he worked his jaw and avoided her gaze. “All the varying steps in the process, how much you usually make every standard year, whether or not I’ve ever taken the besker off before when I wasn’t… alone.”

Omera gasped and covered her face with her free hand. “They didn’t! I’m sorry, Din.” 

He shook his head and led them to the edge of the village. “It wasn’t too bad actually. I think… they were just curious about my people."

Thankful that the men hadn't been so inappropriate as to put him off, Omera hoped he could be happy here. Would being with her be enough to keep a lifelong warrior satisfied brewing Spotchka and farming krill? Sometimes Omera felt restless here and she had Winta to think about. Watching him sidelong as they walked, she wondered if they should have that discussion now. She  _ did _ believe that whatever this was between them was serious, but what did that mean to him? What would it look like? Did Din want to marry her? 

Then there was his new claim to Mandalore. All Omera knew about the planet was that the Empire had committed the same kind of atrocities there as it had so many other places. He seemed to think this Bo-Katan woman would bother them about it at some point. Would she be successful? Should she be? Din claimed not to want anything to do with her or his apparent right to rule but Omera wondered how much he had actually considered it. 

Suddenly he was half turned and looking down at her, lips half smiling and eyes questioning.

"What?"

Omera's eyes widened slightly and she turned back to the path ahead of them. She hadn't realized she was staring.

"Sorry. I was just… thinking."

She could hear the smile in his voice as she steadfastly looked ahead. 

"I could see that. About anything interesting?"

Nodding slightly, she finally looked up at him and decided now was as good a time as any. 

"Din, when you said you wanted to stay here, with us, with me, what did that mean for you?" When he frowned in confusion, she rushed on, pressing a hand flat against his chest. "I think I know what we mean to you, Din, I'm not questioning that." She smiled reassuringly up at him and he seemed to relax. "What do you want, for yourself, for us, for… the future? Do you think you can be happy as a krill farmer? Will I be enough to keep you happy here?"

He looked down at her, eyes intense and focused as he thought through her question. While he thought, he dropped her hand to wrap both of his around her waist, holding her close.

"I will always be a Mandalorian, Omera. It took me a while to understand that that could be true, and that I could be with you at the same time. I think it's just what, who, I am." He let out a shaky sigh. "But I can't go back to the Mandalorians who raised me, if they're even still alive. Not after everything I've learned. And I can't go back to bounty hunting even if I wanted to. Now that I don't have…" He swallowed thickly and blinked rapidly for a moment. "I no longer have responsibilities to my son. I am free to choose my own path for the first time in my life. I came back because I want to be here. With you and Winta. Krill farming or bounty hunting, it's all the same to me as long as I can be with you." 

Pausing, he reached up to cup her cheek and a nervous frown bent his brow. Omera felt breathless as she watched his thoughts flicker across his face. 

"I want to try to be happy. Here on Sorgan or anywhere if we decide to leave someday but... I want to be with you and I want to… I want to love you, Omera."

Her eyes stung but a painfully wide smile split her face and a happy laugh fell from her lips. Surging forward, she kissed him, pouring everything she felt for him into it. When she pulled back, her voice was a soft whisper.

"Din, I want to love you too."

As he kissed her back, thoughts about their future, about Mandalore and the Darksaber felt less and less important. Someday he would have to face Bo-Katan and his place as Mand'alor but she knew, whatever he chose, they would be together. 


	12. questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. I'm going to start introducing short time skips in this chapter. I hope it isn't too confusing. It would just really drag if we saw every single day between the last conversation and the next action arc. Oop. Was that a spoiler? Warning, just… so much fluff ahead.   
> again. Sorry for the lack of slow burn. I kind of think our babies would move fast.   
> also. I realized that I had been spelling Beskar wrong with an er lol I fixed it in the document but I'm not going to go back on the published stuff. too much work   
> ENJOY fam!

**Chapter 12**

**-questions-**

The chest in her arms was wide and it was awkward to carry but it wasn’t heavy. Walking past Din’s room that morning and seeing his things piled on the floor amongst her daughter's, Omera had thought of it. Sometimes she forgot that he had come to them with almost nothing. He needed somewhere to keep the things he did have. There hadn't been more than a few extra blankets in the chest so she'd moved them and brought it in. 

"Omera, what are you… here, let me help." 

Din’s crooked smile and ruffled hair appeared over the chest as he took it from her. Did he have any idea how handsome he was? The warm, happy feeling she got every time he looked at her like that filled her until she forgot what she was doing. 

"Where do you want this? Omera?" 

"What? Oh.." Blinking rapidly and inwardly wincing at how ridiculous she was being, she smiled and gestured at the chest. "I was bringing that in for you. So you had somewhere to keep your things. Instead of… the floor." 

She bit her lip as she watched him process her words, glancing over his shoulder into his room then back to her. The crooked smile widened and something that might have been gratitude or maybe something more flashed in his eyes. 

"Thank you, Omera." 

She smiled, shrugging as if it was nothing and followed him into his room. He set the chest down against the wall and knelt beside it, looking over at his few possessions. Sitting behind him on the bed, Omera looked at the piled beskar. It was still strange seeing him without it even after almost a week.

"Do you miss wearing it?"

He glanced at her and looked back to the beskar, picking up the helmet. After a contemplative moment, he shrugged.

"Yes and no? It's all I've worn for so long, I feel… naked without it almost. Unprepared, vulnerable." Setting the helmet aside, he picked up the folded brown flight suit and laid it in the chest. "But I don't think I need it here. At least, I hope I won't. If I ever do, it's here."

Omera nodded and watched him stack the larger pieces in the chest. Personally, she didn't think he would be wearing rough spun greens and browns for the rest of his days but she kept her musings to herself. When he picked up a thigh guard, one of his pauldrons rolled on its side next to her feet. She picked it up with the intention of handing it to him but her eyes caught on it. 

Her thumbs traced the head of a large, horned beast. She had noticed it the last time he’d been with them but for some reason it hadn't occurred to her to ask what it was. When he looked back at her, searching for the missing piece, she held it up in question. 

"What is this?"

He smiled sadly as he took it from her, looking down at it with a nostalgic gleam in his eye. 

"It's a mudhorn. It's my signet. Ner aliit." His eyes met hers fleetingly before looking back down at it, fingers running over it reverently. 

That hadn't been basic and thinking for a moment, Omera thought it might be the same language he muttered to himself now and then. "What language is that?"

"Mando'a. The language of my people. It means… my family, my clan."

She nodded in understanding. "The clan that raised you?"

He shook his head. "No. Just mine. Clan Djarin, a clan of two. Me and the kid."

When he grew quiet, not taking his eyes off the piece, Omera reached out, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"How was it chosen? Why a mudhorn?"

Breathing out a chuckle, a trace of humor filled his voice. "Do you remember when I told you about how I found the kid?"

"On Arvala-7?"

"Ya. Well, I'd left my ship to get to his location on foot. By the time I got back to it, kid in tow, Jawas had stripped it down to the frame. Thieving womp rats. Anyway, a friend I had met there, an Ugnaught named Kuiil, helped me negotiate with them to get my stuff back. When I wouldn't let them have my beskar or the kid, they asked for an egg. From," he gestured to the pauldron, "a mudhorn. Well, it turned out to be a little more than I could handle on my own. The thing nearly killed me. It would have, but the kid… Grogu he did that... magic force thing and stopped it from crushing me to death.

"Before I came here the last time, I went back to my covert. That's when I learned what happened to them. The Armorer, she was still there." Noticing her confusion he explained. "She forged the beskar. She had stayed behind to take care of the beskar from… the others. She gave it to me. Told me we were a clan, and to find the Jedi."

Apparently at the end of his story, Din lapsed back into silence as he stared down at it. As important as the signet was to him, it seemed wrong to pack it away. It represented his identity as a Mandalorian, his son, his family. Cheeks heating as she thought of it, Omera wondered if someday his clan might include her and Winta too. She hoped so.

"Din, you might not need the beskar here, but… I think you should wear this. It’s important. To remind you of your son and to keep this part of your life close."

Slowly, he looked up at her, that something from earlier that was maybe gratitude, maybe something more, shone from his eyes. For a long moment, his gaze felt heavy and Omera didn't think she could move. Abruptly, he straightened up and turned so he knelt between her knees. Setting the pauldron down beside her, his left hand pressed into the bed, fingers grazing her thigh, the right reached up to her face. 

"Omera, I.. thank you." 

Then he kissed her. 

Omera had been half in love with him before he had left the last time. She’d thought it a bit mad considering she hadn’t even seen his face and she knew he'd leave her. Now as he knelt before her, kissing her like he never wanted to stop, Omera knew she loved him. 

  
  


<DO>

Din had been back for two weeks when Winta asked him about his intentions herself. She hadn't had lessons that morning and the spotchka didn't need tending so the pair of them had gone for a walk through the woods. His blaster hung against his hip just in case and his signet pauldron covered his right shoulder, held in place by a leather brace Omera had fashioned for him. 

Winta walked along beside him, arms extended as she balanced up a fallen branch, while he told her about the two TIE fighters on Nevarro. 

"So, you blew them up? Both of them?"

"Ya, I did. I know what Cara told you about the Razor Crest but... she flew so beautifully." Remembering, he chuckled. "Lots of creative flying. I think Grogu enjoyed it… He lost his lunch though, poor guy." 

She smiled as she pictured it. "Did you fly upside down?" He nodded. "Neat." Din reached out instinctively when she jumped down, but she landed easily on the ground beside him. "I bet I would have puked too. You must be a good pilot." Her smile faltered. "Din, will we ever see him again?"

Sighing, he tried for a reassuring smile. " I don't know. I hope so." 

Her small hand slid into his. "Me too.  _ I _ miss him, so you must miss him a whole lot."

Clearing the sudden tightness in his throat he agreed and she was quiet for approximately two minutes. 

"Din,"

"Yes, Winta?"

"Are you going to marry momma?"

He choked on his surprise and turned to look down at her. Brown eyes wide and earnest, she looked completely serious. Unable to do more than blink stupidly down at her, Din quickly looked back up at the trail ahead of them. It wasn’t something they'd explicitly discussed, but it  _ had _ occurred to him. He'd certainly  _ implied _ that he wanted to marry Omera eventually but he hadn’t said the words. It had only been a couple of weeks after all.

"Well… I've thought about it." He chanced a glance down at her to find her still watching him. "Why do you ask?"

The way she rattled off her reply made him think she'd rehearsed it. 

"I  _ know  _ you kiss each other, a lot. And you're always looking at each other with big goofy smiles and mushy eyes." Heat crept up his neck at her observations. "You live with us, so it's almost like you're already married anyways. Except you sleep in my room. I don't know why exactly, but when you get married you're supposed to sleep  _ together _ . At least, all of my friends say so." She shrugged and looked up at him expectantly.

"You talk to your friends about your mom and me?"

A hint of guilt crossed her face and her eyes fell. 

"No. Well… I didn't bring it up." When she peered up at him again, she seemed apprehensive. Din got the feeling she was leaving something important unsaid but since it was so out of character for her to do so, he didn't push. "But, are you going to?"

Din wasn't sure what to tell her. That he hoped he would? That he thought he might love Omera already but it felt too soon to say so? He was reasonably sure she felt the same, but he had so little experience with this he didn't want to say something he wasn't certain of. 

"I think that's something your mother and I should discuss, Winta." 

She studied him carefully for a minute, as if trying to gauge his expression for any hints of what he might be thinking before nodding and turning back to the trail. Now that she had brought it up, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. What did  _ she _ think about the idea? If he  _ did  _ merry Omera, Winta would be a part of that relationship, that family. He already cared for her the same way he did Grogu, even if he never married her mother. But what would it mean for Winta?

As she let go of his hand to dart after a frog that had leapt across their path, he wondered why she had asked. Watching her play, he thought back over their conversation. Did she plan to ask him about this or had something they'd said triggered it? They'd been talking about the kid again... and his piloting. Suddenly he remembered another conversation they'd had and it started to make sense. 

Did Winta want that? For him to marry her mother and be… what to her? To Mandalorians, you didn't have to share blood to have familial bonds. In his covert, he doubted any of the children hadn't been foundlings. Even though their relationships were always somewhat muted, they were important. If he married Omera, that commitment would extend to Winta, she would be his, the same way Grogu was. 

"Winta?"

Dark curls whipped around her face as she sat up and looked around at him. The sudden uncertainty he felt must have shown because her face knit with concern. 

"What's wrong, Din?"

"Would you… if I said I wanted to marry your mother someday, what would you think about that? I mean… since you brought it up." 

Standing up, Winta grabbed his hand and they started walking again. 

"It would make Momma really happy, I think."

Frowning, he tipped his head to the side and watched her closely. "I asked what you would think, Winta."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Well… if you did, would it be ok if…" Still refusing to look at him fully, she mumbled the rest so quietly he couldn't hear. He missed his helmet for a moment as he leaned to the side enough to see her face. Her bottom lip was trapped between her teeth and she must have found something very interesting about her shoes as hard as she stared down at them.

"Would what be ok, Winta?"

Taking a deep breath, she stopped walking and—almost cautiously—looked up at him. "If you married my momma, what would you be to me? Could I call you Dad?"

Din’s jaw fell open slightly in shock and his chest tightened almost painfully at her expression. She looked so insecure, as if she expected him to actually say no.

"Winta…" Sinking to one knee, he put his hands on her shoulders. "That would be a great honor, Winta."

Just like when he’d told her he was staying, a bright smile lit up her face and she flung herself at him. As he hugged her back, she buried her face in his neck. 

"You better marry her soon then."

He laughed. "I'll speak to her about it, Winta. I promise."


	13. promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fat Tuesday Fam! Hope everyone managed some indulgence today if you celebrate. We had cake for dinner lol. Here is a little more sweetness to indulge in! I wanted to post this extra chapter Sunday but I didn't get to it. I just really want to post this one and the next one. They're pretty romantically fluffy. Ill have to restrain myself until Thursday though.

**Chapter 13**

**-promises-**

Soon ended up being almost a whole week. Evidently the spotchka was entering a touchy stage and required almost round the clock monitoring. On top of that, two days after his conversation with Winta, one of Sorgan's rare winter storms blew through. It  _ didn't  _ snow but it  _ did _ get extremely cold and blustery. Ensuring the ponds didn't freeze and damage the krill spawn was more continuous labor than Din had done in a long time. When he got home every night, he was exhausted and sore and neither he nor Omera had energy for more than a quick meal and a short kiss goodnight.

Thankfully the weather only lasted four days. When the sun came up on the fifth day, the village let out a collective sigh of relief and nearly everyone went back to bed. By the time Din woke again and dressed and walked out of his room, it was late in the afternoon and Omera and Winta were sitting at the table eating a light lunch.

"Afternoon, girls."

They both smiled at him as he sat down between them, hand automatically reaching for Omera’s. He was always doing that, reaching for her. Without his creed or his beskar to hold him back anymore, Din had discovered he was an intensely affectionate person, at least with his family. 

Din wondered if he would have always been this way—having such an acute need for touch—or if decades of deprivation had made it so essential to him now it was freely available. Omera never seemed bothered that his hands always sought her somehow. In fact he thought she might relish it almost as much as he did.

Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, he leaned in slightly when Omera stood up and kissed his temple. After a whispered, 'good morning, Din,' she pulled back and stepped over to the counter. While her back was turned, Winta leaned over the table and grabbed his forearm. Smiling sleepily down at her, he had to bite back a laugh at the wide, questioning eyes flicking pointedly back and forth between himself and Omera. 

She had been patient all week, not mentioning their conversation once. Now that there was finally a break in the work, she wasn't about to let him forget his promise. Reaching up to ruffle her still sleep rumpled curls, Din nodded and winked at her. Her smile was a little wild as she leapt from her seat and hugged him. 

Omera turned around then, tea and plate of food in hand and met his eyes over Winta’s head. The tender, happy smile she gave him stole what breath was left after Winta had bowled into him. 

Glancing up at her mother, she wished him a whispered good luck and dashed around the table to hug Omera. 

"Bye Momma. I'm going to see if anyone else is up yet. Bye Din"

The grin he had for Winta as she disappeared out the door turned to nervous laughter when he glanced up to Omera. She was staring after Winta with a confused expression that turned questioning when she looked back to him. He got the impression she suspected they were up to something. 

"What was that about?"

Taking the tea from her, he tried to shrug it off. "Probably just excited the storm is over. Been mostly cooped up inside for days."

After a brief appraising stare, she shrugged and handed him the plate of food and sat down beside him to finish her own. 

"That's true. So… what do you have planned for the day, Din? Are you excited the storm is over too?" She somehow managed to smirk at him around a bite of oat bread. 

His gut was a mad riot but he tried not to let it show as he swallowed a bite of food and smiled back at her. 

"Oh, I am glad. That was a lot of work. But at least it didn't snow." She huffed a laugh and shook her head. 

"No. Thank the force for that."

Setting his fork down, he reached across the table and took her hand. 

"As for my plans, I was thinking maybe we could spend the afternoon together? I… well we haven’t had time for more than a few words in passing all week and I…" Din could feel his neck and ears burning as she watched him, her smile suddenly shy. "I need, well… I would like to… talk to you." Kriff, that wasn’t how he'd planned to start but she didn't seem put off as she smiled wider.

"I like the sound of that. Why don’t you finish eating while I get changed and we can head out on our own before anyone can bother us."

She squeezed his hand when he nodded and left him to eat. He watched her go and as soon as the curtain to her room fell shut, his breath came out in a nervous rush and he stared at his food. With his stomach still in knots, Din didn't think he could eat anymore. Still staring down at it, his mind racing, when Omera stepped back into the room and put her hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Are you ok, Din?"

Hoping his smile was convincing, he downed the rest of his tea and stood.

"Ya, sorry. I just… got lost in thought."

At her incredulous stare, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek and grab her hand. 

"I'm fine, I promise. Just not hungry this morning."

She still looked mildly skeptical but allowed him to lead her around the table and towards the door. "Alright.. I think I heard Hannah's voice from my window while I changed so I guess it's good you're done."

Starting to feel better now that he was moving, Din flashed her a more genuine smile as they stepped out into the cool morning air. The storm and its frigid air had abated but it wasn't warm. Din had grabbed his cowl on the way out and Omera had a thick wrap of her own. Hand in hand, they set off. 

Hannah was indeed out, watching them go from her porch with a truly feral grin. Winta was sitting—if bouncing on her hands where she sat could be called sitting—near her and making a very good show of playing with Hannah's children. Both sent encouraging gestures his way as he looked back at them over his shoulder. Thankfully Omera wasn't looking. 

Din shook his head in exasperation and hoped this would go well. 

Neither one of them spoke as they passed the treeline. Din hardly noticed the birdsong or the slight chill, as wrapped up in deciding what to say as he was. He needed to tell Omera that he loved her. Hopefully she would feel the same. If she did, then he would tell her he wanted her to be his  _ riduur _ , his partner, his wife. But what if she didn't want that? What if this was all too soon and Winta was wrong about how Omera would react? 

"Din?"

Shaken again from his thoughts, he must have looked as bewildered as he felt when he turned to her. Her free hand pressed against her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle a laugh when he met her gaze. 

"You must have a lot on your mind, that's twice now I've lost you to your thoughts this morning. Are you sure you're alright?"

Nodding, perhaps a little too fast, Din ran his tongue along his teeth and tried to put words together. 

"Fine, yes… I'm fine. I do, I guess…"

She laughed softly. "You guess you do... what?"

Inhaling deeply, he stopped walking and drew her around to face him. "I do have a lot on my mind. Omera…" Words failing him again, he frowned down at her hands in his and she moved in closer. 

"Hey, Din… is something wrong? You said you needed to talk to me." Slipping one of her hands free she cupped his face, running her thumb along his cheek. Kriff, how did she always know exactly what he needed. Her warmth reminded him of all the other times she'd touched him, all the times her eyes had told him she felt the same way he did. Staring intently down into them now, Din wasn’t nervous anymore.

"No, Omera, nothing's wrong. I wanted to tell you, that I… Omera," He reached up, tracing his knuckle along the curve of her cheek, suddenly marveled by the moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was hardly more than a whisper. " _ Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner ka'ra _ ." She didn't know what it meant, but quiet wonder filled her face and he thought she felt the meaning. "I love you, Omera." 

Her breath left her in a soft gasp but he couldn't stop himself now that it was out. "I know I've only been back a few weeks and maybe it's too soon to say so but I needed to tell you how I felt." The smile she wore made him feel foolish for how nervous he'd been.

"Oh, Din." And then she was kissing him. "I love you, too." Their breath, visible in the cool air, curled around them as they clung to one another, both grinning like loons in-between kisses. "I love you."

A strangled laugh fell from his mouth as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. "Omera, I love you, and maybe this should wait but I can't think of a good reason to." The nerves were back as he watched realization dawn behind her eyes. "I knew before I came back that if I ever did, I wouldn't be able to leave you again. Omera…" 

"Yes, Din?"

Positive she could feel his heart racing against her palm, he huffed out a short breath and went for it. 

"I want you to be my  _ riduur _ , Omera, my wife. Will you marry me?"

For what felt like a very long moment, she didn't move and Din watched her with mounting anxiety. Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth turned up until she was smiling brilliantly. 

<DO>

  
  


They had been walking around in the woods for what felt to Winta like  _ years _ . With a great, heaving sigh that her mother would definitely consider "overly dramatic," she flopped back against the creaking planks of Hannah's porch. Clouds drifted across the sky with the same pace she imagined Din and her mother to be taking. 

"Be patient, little one. These kinds of conversations take time, and poor Din did look so nervous." Hannah was leaning over her with an amused air, but Winta knew she was excited too. 

As soon as she’d ran out of her house that morning, Winta had gone to see her mother’s best friend. Hannah's children were awake when she'd gotten there but she hadn't truly come for them. When Winta told her what Din had promised, and that he was doing it today, the grown woman had grinned and squealed with glee like a kid presented with rare off-world sweets. For some reason she didn't fully understand, Hannah seemed just as interested in their relationship as she was. 

"I  _ know _ that but it's been  _ ages _ !"

Her mother’s friend only chuckled at her impatience and scooped her youngest child into her arms. "They've been gone all of thirty minutes, dear. Besides, if things go well they might be  _ quite _ a while yet." 

Confused by her change in tone, Winta looked up to see Hannah staring out at the trees with a look that made her think the older woman was talking about grown up things. Scrunching her face, she sat up and decided to try actually playing with the other kids. It might distract her for a little bit at least. 

It did not. 

What might have been hours later, or more likely only another half an hour, she  _ finally  _ saw them. At first they looked the same as when they had left, walking hand in hand. But when they got closer she could see how different they looked. Din’s hair stuck up funny like he'd lost a fight with a loth-cat but she'd never seen him smile like that. Her mother’s hair was also a bit wild and she looked so happy. 

Had he done it? Were they going to get married? Joy bubbled up and spilled over onto her face and it was all she could do to keep from running to meet them. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Winta waited for them to notice her. 

Din saw her first. His impossibly wide smile softened and he beckoned her over. She didn't need to be told twice. Unable to hold back any longer, a gleeful shriek followed her as she raced to their side, Hannah laughing where she left her.

Skidding to a halt just in front of him, she snatched his free hand with both of hers and looked back and forth between them. 

"Did you do it? Did you ask her?"

Chuckling warmly, he nodded. "Ya Winta, I did." 

He grunted softly when she let go of his hand to slam into his side but his arm came around her shoulders and she felt her mother’s hand in her hair. 

"Wait a minute, did you know about this, Winta?"

Face still hidden in Din’s side, her mother couldn't see her smug grin but he must have felt her giggle. 

"We may have had a conversation about it a few days ago. She was... enthusiastic."

When she finally looked up at her mother, her expression radiated the happiness Winta knew she would feel. Releasing Din, she hugged her mother too. 

"I thought it was strange how you left this morning. So you're ok with this then?"

Beaming up at her, she glanced at Din and waved her mother down so she could whisper into her ear. 

"I asked him if I could call him Dad." She pulled back to giggle. 

Her mother looked between them with a tender smile. "Oh really? And what did he say?"

Din, having heard what she said to her mother, was a bit red around the ears, but he was looking down at her like all the other dads in the village looked when they were especially proud of their kids. 

"He said," here Winta did her best impression of him. "It would be a great honor. Winta."

Looking like she might start crying, her mother kissed her forehead and took her hand. Winta reached out for Din on her other side.

"Well, I guess we better get home. We have some things to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mando'a Din says when he confesses to Omera is how they say "I love you" and the pet name he attaches at the end, 'Ner Ka'ra' means my stars. Is it cliché? ya. Do I care? no. He doesn't seem like a sweetheart or beloved kind of guy and the only real thing I can find in Mando'a is a word that means beloved. Hope you liked it!


	14. vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is folks! The one and only real love scene in this story. I just wrote a taste of one much later on but I am not over here trying to write porn. I am sorry if you want that, there is loads for this pairing around but I am not comfortable writing smut. However I felt it was the right time for their relationship. I hope you all like it! I am actually pretty happy with it.

**Chapter 14**

**-vows-**

They spent the rest of the afternoon together. Winta had been over the moons, Omera didn't think she had ever seen her daughter so happy. She didn't think  _ she'd _ ever been so happy. When Din told her that he loved her, she hadn’t been surprised. In the last weeks, she'd seen it in his eyes every time he looked at her. And maybe it was early, but she didn't care. There wasn't anything to say when he’d asked her to marry him but, yes. 

Hannah had stopped by not long after they'd gotten back with dinner under her arm and promises to not let anyone bother them. With no reason to leave the sanctuary of their home, they didn't. Winta wanted to know how soon they could get married and if they would do it like the other people in their village.

Not a native to Sorgan nor particularly attached to anything about her home world, Omera wasn't sure what to say. 

"I'm not sure." She looked over Winta's head to Din where he sat on the other side of the sofa. "Do your people have any customs?"

His fingers threaded idly through her hair as he stared thoughtfully across the room. 

"Yes, actually. There are vows. All that's required is to say them, then it's done." When he looked back at her he was frowning slightly. "They're, not what you'd call romantic… the vows of a warrior race."

She arched a brow. "Well, could we hear them?"

"Sure." Suddenly on the spot, both she and Winta looking up at him expectantly, a slight blush colored his face. 

" _ Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde." _ A slight smile flickered across his face and he cleared his throat. "We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors.''

They weren't poetic, but there was something romantic in their directness and Omera thought they were perfect. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face because his nerves cleared and he smiled back at her.

"Does that mean you'll teach me to shoot your blaster?"

At Winta’s sudden question, Din choked slightly on a laugh. He caught her eye briefly before giving Winta his full attention. 

"We'll see. Before you can learn to shoot I think we need to work on your arm strength."

She looked up at him with such indignation Omera bit her lip to keep from laughing at her.

"My arms are plenty strong!"

Din leaned back and picked up her arm to inspect critically. "Oh ya? Hmm. Blasters are heavier then they look and have quite a kick. You think you can handle it?" She nodded vigorously but soon erupted in a fit of giggles when he tickled her side. 

When he stopped and her laughter calmed, Winta was still grinning up at him. 

"Maybe you're right but, I still like them. You should do it now. Can you say them now?"

Omera shook her head in exasperation. "Winta, the village will want to celebrate, and I think we should put in a holo call to Cara first." When she wrinkled her nose Omera huffed a laugh. "Why are you so impatient to have us married. A few days won't change anything, sweetheart."

"I know..." She let out a sigh and looked up to Din. Omera watched him as the two of them seemed to have a silent conversation. Sudden understanding filled his eyes and his face softened. 

"Winta…" He looked up to Omera. She saw a question in his quiet gaze, as if he was asking for permission. Not sure what he was thinking but trusting him, she smiled. The look on his face when he turned back to Winta made Omera’s heart feel like it would burst. 

"Winta, my people, we have another important vow. It's a vow of adoption. I gave it to… to Grogu, and I want to give it to you too, Winta. It would make you mine.  _ Ner aliit _ , part of my clan." He tapped the mudhorn on his right shoulder. "My family. It's short and I can do it right now… if you still want that."

Omera’s hand pressed to her lips to hold back a sob as her eyes burned. She couldn’t see Winta's face since she was looking at Din but her little voice when she answered him was full of wonder.

"Really? I don't have to wait then? You'll be my dad? Right now?"

Din let out a shuddering breath and nodded. "Ya. Ya I would be. I just have to say it."

Her curls bounced furiously when she nodded. "Do it! Please!"

His smile was brimming with emotion and he took her little hands in his, sitting up a bit straighter. She copied his posture, squaring her shoulders.

" _ Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad.  _ I know your name as my child. Winta of Clan Djarin."

And with a happy cry she was in his arms, face buried in his chest. Her voice was muffled but Omera could still hear, and judging by the way it affected Din, he could too.

"I love you, Daddy."

Din wrapped his arms around her and tried to blink back the tears that threatened.

"I love you too, Winta."

After dropping a kiss to the top of her head he finally looked back up to Omera. She hadn't even tried to stop her tears and on seeing her unchecked emotions, Din sighed, losing the battle. When a tear slid free down his face, Omera reached out to brush it away. Smiling at her, he turned into her touch and kissed her palm.

<DO>

Much later, after Winta was finally asleep, Omera slipped into Din’s room. He was sitting on the edge of the bed fiddling with Grogu's little gear knob. Hearing her soft steps, he looked up at her and tried to smile.

"Omera."

She did smile and he reached out his other hand to her as she got closer, coming to stand between his legs. 

"Hey." 

"Hey."

Her touch was soothing as always when she tenderly cupped his face, her hands sliding along his jaw and down his neck. 

"Going to bed anytime soon?"

"Maybe." She leaned down slightly and kissed his cheek. "Just… well.." He looked back at the precious metal ball in his other hand. 

"What is it?"

Resting his forehead against her stomach, free hand wrapping around her waist, he opened his fist, tilting it slightly causing it to roll along his fingers. 

"It's a gear knob from my ship. Grogu, he… liked to play with it. I gave up trying to keep it away from him eventually. It's all.." His voice suddenly thick with emotion, he took a moment to compose himself, pressing his eyes into her side. "It's all I have left of him." 

Omera pulled up her skirt as she moved to sit beside him. Folding her left leg, he felt the heat of it against his hips as she turned her body so she could press into his side. She wrapped her arms around his waist and propped her chin on his shoulder, waiting for him to continue. Letting out a pained breath, he put his free hand on her right knee and whispered his thoughts to the room.

"I wish things could be different, I wish he could be here too. With us, and Winta." He looked over at her. "You make me so happy, Omera. Both of you. Today, tomorrow, the next day… even missing my son the way I do I've never been so happy."

Her smile was a little sad. "You feel guilty? For being happy even though he's gone?"

He frowned, realizing that was exactly it. "Ya. The vow with Winta... it made me  _ happy _ , but it reminded me of him. About how I wish he could be here too. Both of my kids." Unable to continue, Din closed his eyes against the pain.

"You know… you always talk about Grogu like he's dead, Din." He knew she didn't mean the sting he felt from her words but the truth of them hurt. "He isn't. He's alive, out there somewhere learning to be a Jedi, making you proud and probably thinking of you. You're going to see him again someday, Din."

Shaking his head, he tried to pull away. "How do you know that? By the time he's likely to be done training, I'll be an old man, if I'm even still alive. I told him… I promised him that I'd see him again but… I don't know if I'll be able to keep that promise." 

Omera wouldn't let him turn away from her, holding him tighter. When he stopped struggling and let out a shaky breath, she reached up with her other hand to make him look at her. Giving in, Din collapsed back against her, letting his forehead drop to hers. 

"You will, Din, trust me. Mother’s intuition. Maybe not soon, but you will. He'll find his way back to you, love. And until then, you don't have to feel guilty for being happy. He wouldn't want that for you."

For several minutes, Din thought about what she said. She couldn’t know, not really. Neither of them could. But looking into her eyes, so earnest and knowing, he decided he would believe her. Leaning to the side, he placed the metal knob on top of the chest at the foot of the bed. When he turned back to her, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

"Thank you, Omera. I don't know what would have happened to me if I hadn't come back to you."

She pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Well, I don't think your friends would have let you fall completely apart but… I'm so glad you did come back."

Finally cracking a smile of his own, Din pulled back slightly and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

"I love you, Omera."

She kissed him again, longer and slower this time, and responded in kind. 

"I love you too, Din." 

This time when he met her gaze, there was a heat behind it that hadn't been before. Her hand wandered down to the buckle on the leather brace that kept his pauldron in place. Unfastening it with one hand, she leaned back only far enough to pull the beskar and leather from his shoulder. 

"Din…" her voice was barely a whisper. Realizing what she wanted, suddenly it was exactly what he wanted too. Shifting slightly, he crashed his lips back to hers. When she tugged at the bottom of his shirt, he only hesitated a moment before pulling it off, tossing it away. 

They had been taking things slowly, just like she'd said they would. She had seen him like this—half naked, skin littered with scars—but never in a moment like this. 

Her hands were like fire as they roved over him. His shoulders, his chest, his back, her fingers mapped every inch of him as he kissed her. Din never wanted her to stop touching him like this. When she finally pulled back, he was dizzy with need. Pausing to look at him only a moment, the same fire that burned in his gut reflected in her eyes, she tugged her nightgown over her head, letting it fall to the floor. 

Din had seen naked women before. His life as a bounty hunter occasionally took him to strange places. But none of them had ever held much interest for him. None of them had ever been naked for him, none of them had been his. Not like Omera. She sat, one leg tucked beneath her, chest rising and falling rapidly, beautiful and  _ his _ . Din’s mouth went dry as he stared at her, unable to form words. Faced with his own inexperience, his mind felt empty and he didn't know what to do.

Then she was grabbing his hands, placing them on her body. The swell of her soft, heavy breasts, the curve of her hip, she was perfect. Suddenly needing to feel the heat of her skin against his, he urged her back until they were lying, pressed together. Her arms wrapped around him, her hands sliding down his back, her breasts pressed against his chest, Din felt fire in his blood as it pounded through him, roaring in his ears and rushing to his groin. 

A sweet, breathy moan fell from her lips when his thigh pressed between hers that sent a shock of pleasure down his spine. Wanting to know how to please her, to make her cry out like that again and again, Din found her hand as he kissed her.

"Show me how to touch you, Omera."

She was slick and hot and he groaned into her neck as she did exactly as he asked. Watching her carefully as he touched her, he cataloged everything. Each stroke and press of his fingers that sent her higher, every inch of skin where open mouthed kisses or the light scraping of his teeth sent shudders of pleasure racing through her, he memorized them all. When she came apart for him, nearly drawing blood as she bit down on her lip to quiet her cries, the fire that roiled within him demanded more.

She reached for the waist of his pants, nearly as frantic to get him out of them as he felt. Finally free of them, they shifted until he was nestled between her thighs. Breathing hard, he stared down into the fathomless depths of her brown eyes and felt lost to the world. 

"Din… please!"

And with a roll of his hips, was lost no more.

<>

Sometime later, Din lay awake in the still quiet of the dark. Omera’s gentle breathing as she slept, wrapped around him, the only sound. Tracing her face as she slept, he wondered at the turns his life had taken to bring him here. For the first time in his life that he could remember, he looked forward to his future. The omnipresent threat of violence that haunted his every step was gone. Banished was the loneliness so constant he'd lost the ability to recognize it. The woman in his arms and the love they shared, the little girl—their daughter in the other room, this small wooden house and all they would have here... this new life was a good thing. 


	15. travelers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "And now for something, completely different." I hope you find this as amusing as I did.

**Chapter 15**

**-travelers-**

Nearly four weeks after dropping Din off on Sorgan and it finally looked like Cara was going to get her vacation. Not much had happened in her little corner of Nevarro while she'd been away helping to rescue his son. The local criminals had apparently decided to wait for her to get back before going on their spree. 

When Karga had welcomed her back, he'd been jubilant to hear that Din was settling down for a while and glad the child had been rescued. He had kept things well in hand while she was gone, the planet fairly peaceful now the last of the Imp remnant was gone. Unfortunately, a rogue, ex-Hutt bounty hunter decided to make trouble almost as soon as she landed. 

He brought a few friends with him and it took her longer than it should have to deal with him. The now abandoned sewers were more labyrinthine than she initially realized. It was too bad the Mandalorian covert had been wiped out. She wondered how much crime they stopped just by living down there. 

Ex-Hutt gangsters dealt with, Cara could finally put in for some time off. And after the transmission she'd received from an exuberant Winta the night before, she thought it couldn't have come at a better time. She had known when she left Din with the girl's mother that things would probably move fast. Given the two separate times he'd spent so much time with her already, and especially after the kiss she'd witnessed when the pair had reunited, Cara wasn't at all surprised by Winta’s news. 

It made a small, nearly forgotten girly part of her want to squeal with delight to think of her stoic, love-starved friend marrying his sweetheart. But Cara was not an emotional teenaged girl, so she did not squeal. She  _ did  _ walk around all morning with a happy grin stuck on her face though. When Karga walked in to bring her news, he stopped mid greeting and stared at her with concern.

"Is everything alright, Cara? You seem in excessive good humor this morning."

His jab not bothering her in the least, Cara shook her head, smile still in place.

"As you know, Karga, I've put in for a vacation, and I just received some very good news from a mutual friend. Turns out my trip will be more celebratory than I'd thought."

A knowing smirk lit Karga's face and he propped his hands on his hips, pride in his posture. 

"Ah, our boy has made Sorgan his permanent home then?"

She snorted a laugh. "I don't know about that, but if he does ever leave, he'll have a permanent co-pilot."

Karga's laugh was boisterous. "Wonderful news. I am overjoyed to know he has found such happiness after so much chaos and pain."

Smile finally slipping a fraction, Cara looked her guest over critically and decided he was just a little too jolly. Something was up. 

"Karga, not to ruin the mood here but, did you need something?"

His eyebrows rose in question as an evasive air settled around him. Yep. Something was definitely up. 

"Hmm? Me, need something? Oh no, certainly not."

Crossing her arms and sighing, Cara cocked her head at him in exasperated question. 

"Then why are you here?"

"Ah.. well you see…" Here it came. "Two mid sized ships landed outside the city a few minutes ago and, whoever they are, I think they might be looking for our uh… mutual friend."

Frown now fixed where a smile had been, Cara stood and stomped around the desk. 

"They're looking for Din? What makes you say that? What do they look like?"

Before he could cobble together an answer, her door hissed open again and a familiar female voice had her hackles raised. Dank ferrik. 

"Rather alike I would say." Bo-Katan and two other Mandalorians stepped into her office behind Karga. "Well, sort of."

A slight upward tilt to the other woman's lips when she pulled off her helmet had Cara feeling defensive. 

"Bo-Katan. Didn't I just get done telling you to fuck right off?"

The beginnings of Bo-Katan's smirk widened slightly but her jaw clenched. 

"Cara Dune. It's nice to see you too."

Crossing her arms again, Cara tried to look down her nose at her. 

"Wish I could say the same. I was just about to leave for a few weeks of vacation. What do you want?"

"Where is the Mand'alor, Din Djarin?"

At least the  _ princess of Mandalore _ was direct. Cara could respect that, if nothing else. 

"Oh no. Nope. You're gonna leave that man the hell alone. He already told you he wants no part of that. And, as it happens, he is very busy at the moment."

Karga had perked up when Bo-Katan had spoken and interjected as soon as Cara shut her mouth. 

"Mand'alor? Did you say, Din is the Mand'alor? What is that? Is that different than just… Mandalorian?"

Cara cut Bo-Katan off with a sharp hand gesture before she could respond herself.

"It is, and he's not. He just has a fancy new weapon, that's all."

He looked confused and turned to the newcomer. 

"The Mand'alor is the ruler of all Mandalore and its people. And it's not just some fancy weapon, the Darksaber is the right by which he will rule." She pressed two fingers to her temple and squeezed her eyes shut, evidently trying not to let her frustration get the better of her. 

Meanwhile, Karga seemed to smell a profit somehow and was practically glowing. 

"Ruler you say? Our friend, Mando, king of all the Mandalorians?" He guffawed loudly. "How in the galaxy did that happen? It seems you left out quite a bit from your story, Cara."

Frustrated at the interruption to her fabulous mood, Cara threw her hands in the air and walked back around her desk to play the transmission for them. Maybe if they knew he was about to be chin deep in newly wedded bliss they'd piss off for at least a few months. 

"Din Djarin has had a month to think about things. I simply want to check in with him. He may be busy, but he isn't the only one. We sent word to all surviving clans that we have heard of. There are more of us left than even we knew. All in hiding and doing a damn good job of it. If he would just consider…"

"I already told you, I'm not telling you where he is. Here, I received this transmission from him last night. Well.. it's from him but… see for yourself. Din is  _ busy _ ." 

Flipping a switch on her long range comm, a fuzzy blue image of a smiling little girl came into focus. 

"Hi Cara! Dad, you know, Din said I could tell you, I've never done this before, do I look cool? Am I really blue?" She giggled at someone they couldn't see and straightened, trying to look grown up, Cara imagined. "Guess what! Momma and Din are going to get married! I asked him if he was gonna marry her and I told him he better ask her soon so he did." More giggles erupted. "He said you would want to be here, and that I had to tell you he has your spotchka. And that Momma says she'll tell you 'thank you' in person. You better come, ok? If you're not here in a standard week, I won't let them wait any longer. Bye!"

Karga was positively beaming. "What a delightful child. So this is the daughter of the woman that our Din is settling down with? It seems like he has something of a habit of adopting children."

One of the other Mandalorians—Cara couldn't remember her name but with her helmet now off she remembered she'd been with them on Gideon's ship—had scoffed and was shaking her head in exasperation. Bo-Katan, looking like she’d bitten into something sour, replied to Karga. 

"That's something of a Mandalorian trait. Aliit ori'shya tal'din, family is more than blood. Adopting foundlings is common. I'd wager that in a clan like the one that raised him, that's doubly true."

The other female sneered. "Hard to make children the other way if you never take the beskar off."

"Koska…" Bo-Katan's tone was warning when she looked back at her companion. "This is unexpected. I had half a mind to seduce him myself if I'm being honest. He looked a fair bit younger than me but it would have been an easy way to convince him." 

This time it was Cara who scoffed. "Please tell me you're joking."

Bo-Katan smirked. "Mostly. But I suppose you're right. He likely wouldn't be receptive if we turned up just now." She glanced back at the third Mandalorian and nodded. He nodded back and left. 

"What was that about?"

She sighed. "I realize he may have conflicted feelings about his upbringing and the wider Mandalorian culture that it might take time to sort through and now he's reestablishing his family." Her jaw twitched as she paused, trying to find the right words. "When you see him, tell him we were here."

Annoyed again, Cara rolled her eyes. "Why? Have you changed your mind about the Darksaber? Because that's all the news he'd care to hear."

Koska bristled and stepped closer but Bo-Katan held up a hand again. 

"No, I haven't. But he can have more time to think about it. I don't want to fight him, especially not now." Her eyes flicked to the comm on Cara's desk. "But I'm not sending you empty handed. I brought a… Well I guess we'll call it a wedding present."

When Koska scoffed again, Cara glared at her before focusing back on Bo-Katan. 

"What could you possibly have that he would want?"

This time her smile was so predatory that Cara  _ almost _ took a step back.

"Well. His ship was destroyed recently wasn’t it? Has that been remedied yet?"

Cara shook her head, a very bad feeling about the other woman's intentions niggling at the back of her mind. 

"Well. It just so happens that I am in possession of an extra one."

A little stunned, Cara's eyebrows jumped up her face and her mouth fell open for a moment before she controlled herself. 

"Oh… that is actually very generous. There aren't tracking devices or other booby traps in it are there?"

Appearing offended, Bo-Katan turned for the door, gesturing for her to follow, slipping her helmet back on.

"Of course not. Come on, I'll show you."

Karga followed the three women out and they made their way through town. Just past the gates, like Karga had said, were two ships. One nearly twice as large as the Razor Crest had been, the other closer in size but still much more impressive. Her thoughts must have been plain on her face. Bo-Katan smirked as they walked around to the second ship. 

"It's a Kom'rk class fighter. They were originally made for Death Watch during the Clone Wars. Mine is the larger model, there weren't many of this smaller size made. It's perhaps a controversial choice considering its history if he does decide to take up the mantle of Mand'alor but… If he's the kind of man I think he is, it could prove a sign of the kind of compromise our people need." 

Cara gave her a skeptical look. "Ah huh.. I don't know much about Mandalorian history. I guess I'll take your word for it." 

Just as they came around to the front of the smaller ship, the boarding ramp lowered and the other Mandalorian walked down to meet them. 

"She's all ready Bo."

"Thank you Woves." She turned to Cara. "How much piloting have you done? The Kom'rk ships are a bit more complicated than some." 

Taking a breath, and laughing a bit, Cara shook her head. 

"Not much but, I'm sure I can manage."

Bo-Katan nodded and the two of them walked up the ramp.

"This particular ship was specially configured. There's a fully functioning fresher, two cabins, one with two bunks, and as you can see, cargo space comparable to the Razor Crest. It's got more firepower too. Mine is meant to transport troops, it's much larger and the configuration is different. This one was meant for four to six people in the event they needed to be aboard for extended periods but it's nearly equal in terms of offensive and defensive capabilities."

Cara nodded along as they climbed to the cockpit. So far it seemed like it would be exactly the kind of thing Din needed. The mild feeling of threat lingered though. This was too nice of a ship for Bo-Katan to just give someone she didn't have good reason to believe she'd see again. She clearly had confidence that Din would eventually come around.

"What's the catch?"

Looking back at her, Bo-Katan looked nonplussed. 

"What? No catch. He needs a ship. Besides, if he ever wants to find us he will need a way to bring his family to Mandalore."

Bursting into laughter as she slid into the captain's chair, Cara gave the Mandalorian beside her an incredulous smirk.

"I knew it. This is much too nice a ship to hand over with no hope of a return on the investment. Well, I'm telling you right now. If you don't leave that man be for  _ at least _ eight standard months, I will personally beat your ass."

Frowning thoughtfully, the other woman sat in the seat beside her. 

"We'll see. For now, let's make sure you can fly her."


	16. natural

**Chapter 16**

**-natural-**

Din woke to a low repeating ping. Blinking groggily, he nearly fell out of the bed trying to identify the source. The long range comm Cara had left with him was flashing and was, he now realized, what had woken him. Yawning, he got up, bare feet slapping softly against the cool wooden floor, and flipped the flashing switch. A small, blue Cara appeared.

"Hey, Din. I received your transmission. Tell Winta not to worry, I'm on my way now. I should be there for dinner." Her demeanor suddenly took on an annoyed edge. "Don't be freaked out when you see my ship. I'm coming alone." That made Din pause. Had she borrowed a ship from someone they knew? "I've got a nice long vacation and I'm looking forward to relaxing for a while on Sorgan. Have the spotchka ready when I land, friend."

Still curious about her cryptic message, Din switched off the comm and turned to reach for a shirt when Omera rapped on the door frame. Rubbing her face sleepily, she nodded towards the now silent comm. 

"Was that Cara?"

Din nodded and draped the shirt over his shoulder as he crossed to her. "Ya, she'll be here tonight. I'm sorry if it woke you." 

She shook her head and stepped to meet him, arms sliding around his waist. 

"Mmm it's ok. Besides. Now I'm here with you again." Nuzzling sleepily against his bare chest, she started walking them backwards. "It's still early, want to go back to bed?" 

Nodding, he tossed the shirt and got back into bed, pulling her down beside him. Despite not wanting to ruin what could be a perfectly nice way to start his day, what Cara had hinted at bothered him. "She said something strange about her ship."

Burrowing down beside him, face still smushed against his chest and cold feet between his legs, Omera sighed contentedly. 

"Oh ya? What did she say?"

He wrapped himself around her, soothing the ache he always felt to be close to her as he tried to parse his thoughts. "She said not to worry when I see it, that she's coming alone."

Omera hummed thoughtfully, breath tickling his skin. "That is strange. What do you think it means?"

"Well…" The number of ships he would worry about on sight was higher than he cared to share. Of those, there were only a handful he could think of that Cara would know to mention to him. He couldn’t imagine why she’d have the Slave and even if she did, he wouldn't be worried about Fett. It didn't seem likely that she'd have access to an old Empire ship either. That left.. "Kriff."

Omera shifted so she could see his face. "What is it, Din? Should we be worried?"

"Hmmm." He shook his head and idly ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't think so. It's just.. I think I know what she meant. She sounded irritated when she mentioned it. I'm wondering if she may have had a visit from Bo-Katan already. Though, I'm not sure what that would have to do with her ship. I've only seen her personal ship once and I can't see her lending it to Cara."

Rolling him to his back and lying across his chest, Omera huffed. "Unless she has some way to track it. I doubt Cara would willingly give her your location. Not when she knows what you're getting up to here."

"That makes sense." He raised a brow and smirked down at her. "What am I getting up to exactly?" 

Her eyes had fallen closed again but the smile gave her away. She reached back to grab his hand from her waist to slide it down to her backside. 

"Hmm, I see."

She laughed softly when he squeezed her until he shifted them, dragging her up his body so he could kiss her.

"Din.." 

"Mmm.. yes, Omera?" Reluctantly, he stopped kissing her so she could speak. 

"Why are you still sleeping in here? There's no reason for you to not come to bed with me every night."

His laugh was a deep rumble in his chest beneath her. Besides the night when they had been together the first time, they had continued sleeping separately. The last two mornings she had risen before Winta to wake up in his arms. "Is that what you want? You haven't said. Besides, Winta is under the impression that she gets you all to herself for a few more nights. I'd hate to disappoint her already. "

Omera snorted, dropping her face back to his chest. 

"You're her Dad now, Din. You might as well get used to not letting her have her own way in everything."

Swiping back the hair that had fallen into her face, he grinned at her. 

"I know, but this seems like such a little thing if it makes her happy. It's just been the two of you her whole life, let her have this." The sentimental expression she wore told him he'd said the right thing. "And besides," he craned his neck to kiss her, "it hasn't exactly stopped you from being with me."

Her smile was smug as she pressed her hands into the bed beside him, arching up so her face hovered inches above his. 

"You're good at this, you know? You wouldn't think it. The rough, sexy, but extremely dangerous bounty hunter, actually great with kids and a natural at parenting?" She huffed a soft laugh. "I probably shouldn't still be surprised at this point but… well."

Flattered by her praise even if he didn't know that he agreed, Din tugged her down and captured her lips with his. "Ya well, it's probably down to both of those kids being raised so well before they met me. Wait… you think I'm sexy?"

She tipped her head back and guffawed. 

"Are you kidding? Have you never seen yourself?" When she kissed him again, it lingered and might have turned into more but Winta chose that moment to join them. 

"Momma! Dad! Are you up yet?"

Omera smiled and kissed him chastely once more before sitting up just as Winta poked her head around the curtain. Seeing that they were in fact both awake, she skipped into the room and jumped onto the bed beside them. 

"Good morning Momma, morning Dad. Is it time for breakfast yet? I'm  _ starving _ !"

Unable to help himself, Din chuckled. "Morning, Starving. Nice to meet you."

The positively affronted face she gave him only made him laugh harder until she was giggling too. Omera shook her head at the pair of them with an affectionate smile and stood up.

"Alright, miss Starving, let's go so Dad can get dressed and we'll all head over for breakfast, ok?"

"Not you too, Momma!" Winta’s mock irritation would have been more convincing if she hadn't ended in more giggles. 

Din sat up and Winta gave him a quick hug before following her mother out of the room. He dressed quickly and found Winta sitting at the table waiting for Omera to be finished. 

"Dad?"

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he walked past her.

"Yes, Winta?"

She turned in her seat to face him as he sat on a low stool by the door to put on his boots. 

"The really funny shaped scar on your chest, right here," she indicated a spot between her shoulder and her sternum, "the pink one, what's it from?"

"Hmm.." Din thought for a moment as he did up the fastenings on his boots. She’d been asking him about various old scars now and then for the last couple of weeks. Apparently she thought they were cool and that they made him look tough. 'Like you're really, really hard to kill and you're better at fighting than loads of other people,' she had said. He'd had to laugh at that; if only she knew. 

"That one's newer actually. Do you remember the giant spiders on that ice planet I told you about?" Her eyes got big and she nodded. "I didn't notice at first but I guess at some point in all the chaos something got me. There wasn't any shrapnel or anything lodged in the wound so I think it must have been one of the creatures." He shrugged. "Anyway, I sealed it and it's been fine. Must have managed to stab a leg through my flight suit or something, there wasn't any venom from a bite so.."

Winta looked horrified. "Please, don't ever go back there again, Dad! It sounds so scary!"

Chuckling to himself as he stood and joined her at the table, he patted her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Winta. I don't plan to."

Before he could sit Omera walked into the room, dressed and wearing a curious expression. 

"Where aren't you ever going again?"

He kissed her as she stepped into his arms on the way to find her own boots. "Planets with horrible weather and dangerous animals."

She smiled in understanding and once she was ready, the three of them headed to the common hall.

"Oh, Winta?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"Cara sent us a transmission this morning."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She said to tell you not to worry because she'll be here tonight."

Din couldn’t help but smile when she looked up at him with excitement.

"Already?" He nodded. "Good, that means you can get married tomorrow then!"

Omera’s laugh was musical as she followed after Winta who had taken off for breakfast. Din looked up at the sky before he stepped into the hall, smile slipping a bit as he wondered what news his friend would bring.

<DO>

After breakfast, Din had walked with Winta to lessons before joining the other men for the day's work. Omera had watched them go with what she was sure was a ridiculous, sappy smile. When Hannah and two other women came up beside her with varying degrees of smugness in their expressions, she blushed and tried to dodge them. Unfortunately it was her week to help in the common house for the day's meals so there was no escaping them.

"Don't be like that, Omera. You know we're only excited for you!" The youngest and newly married herself, Marjai was blushing too as she squeezed Omera’s shoulder on her way around her. Omera released a breath that sounded almost like a laugh and followed her, the other two women at her heels. 

"So, are you looking forward to the wedding night? It's been quite a while for you, hasn't it?" 

Omera whipped her head around to gape at the older woman. "Tanda!" Hannah, walking beside her, laughed boisterously.

"Honestly Tanda, I know you like to live vicariously through us younger women but that's a bit far don't you think? Besides, you're losing your edge, old girl if you think Omera hasn't already had that man in her bed."

Blushing furiously and unable to deny her friend's claim, Omera scoffed and hurried after Marjai, leaving the other two women cackling like girls in her wake.

<>

Thankfully the rest of the afternoon passed relatively quickly. The other women apparently satisfied with their teasing, they worked with only the usual amount of gossip. Din and Winta returned for lunch, both done with their morning work. When she joined them, Winta was interrogating him about all the different languages he knew. Evidently, having mastered reading and writing in Basic, she had grown bored with it. Omera was admittedly impressed with his knowledge on the subject. 

"Is it true that Sand People really screech like banshee's and eat children?"

He paused, bite halfway to his mouth and turned to her with an exasperated scoff. "What? Who told you… no they… well they  _ do _ sound a bit like that but no, Winta, they don't eat children. That's just—" Shaking his head, he reached over to ruffle her hair. "They have a bit of a bad reputation, not exactly for no reason but... well some of the stories get exaggerated. I've spent a lot of time with them actually. They use a lot of sign language."

About to lift his abandoned bite back to his mouth, Din paused and turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"Now, the Anzati. You'll want to watch out for them."

Knowing where this was going, Omera bit out a short laugh. "Din…"

When he met her eye across the table, his smirk was boyish and all she could do was shake her head and smile back.

"What are they? Do  _ they _ eat children? Dad, do they?"

He choked back a laugh and turned back to answer Winta. "They have these tendrils that come out of their faces." He used his fingers to mime this for her. "Long and skinny, and they use them like straws to suck the 'soup' out of their victims."

Winta looked equal parts confused and disgusted. "Soup? What kind of soup do people have in them?"

"Not like the kind we eat, Winta. That's just what they call it."

She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue. "Eww, gross. What is it then?"

"No one really knows, but whatever it is, you can't live without it."

Looking like she’d been put off her lunch, Winta still wasn't done with her questions. 

"Well, that's creepy. What language do  _ they _ speak?"

Swallowing the bite he'd finally managed to take, he answered. "I don't know. I'm sure they have their own, but the only one I've ever met spoke Basic."

Suddenly impressed again, Winta seemed to have completely forgotten her food. 

"You've met one? It didn't eat your soup?"

Din only looked a little smug as he tapped his temple. "Nope. Helmet."

By the end of their conversation he had promised to start teaching her Mando’a. With no more plans until Cara got there, they said goodbye and headed out for a walk.

Once they were gone, Hannah and the others slid into sit beside her. Tanda patted her hand where it rested on the table.

"He is such a sweet young man, Omera. And he really seems to care about Winta, too."

Warmth filled her chest and she smiled at the older woman. "He does love her. Winta was impatient for us to be married so he would be her dad."

Hannah squeezed her other hand. "My Nya told me she very proudly told all the children the other day he is already. Something about vows?"

Omera smiled. "Yes. He gave her the Mandalorian's vow of adoption. She's… his now." 

Beside her, Marjai propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands with a dreamy look on her face.

"Oh how sweet. I'm so happy he came back, Omera." She let out a happy sigh. "It's so romantic."

"I'll say. Now tell us. What is he like in bed?"

Omera sighed in exasperation and dropped her head to the table. Above her, Marjai was scolding Tanda on her behalf but all she could think was how much worse it would get once Cara was there.


	17. ships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First installment of the promised three! OH I forgot to mention it in my not on the last chapter but the village woman Tanda is definitely written as Betty White a la The Proposal. So, when you see her again.

**Chapter 17**

**-ships-**

Teaching Winta some Mando’a as they hiked around the forest near the village had proved diverting enough to distract Din from his worries. He vaguely remembered learning himself as a child but he had forgotten how difficult it could be to make an untrained tongue form the proper sounds. It had been frustrating for her but she hadn't given up. She had taken it seriously, as if him teaching her was a privilege. He guessed it was in a way.

As the sun began to set and dinner neared, they had made their way home. Just as they were walking down the path to the common hall, the distant rumbling of a ship caught his attention. Both of them searched the sky for the source but Winta saw it first. 

"Dad! Look!"

He looked to where she pointed and saw it. Squinting, it was hard to tell if he recognized it from so far away. As it got closer, it definitely resembled the ship he knew belonged to Bo-Katan. 

"Dank ferrik."

"What does  _ that  _ mean?"

Kriff. Din looked down at her with a slight frown. "Uh.. don't repeat that." The closer the ship got the more anxious he felt. Reaching down, he took her hand and began to pull her along a little faster. 

"Why not? Is it Mando'a?"

He sighed but didn't take his eyes off the incoming ship. "No it's.. just rude." 

"Oh. Ok."

"That's probably Cara. Let's find your mother, ya?"

They didn’t have to look hard. Omera must have heard it too because she and several others had come out of the common hall to investigate the noise. When she caught his eye, he gave her a tight nod and she walked a little faster to meet them. 

"Do you recognize the ship, Din?"

He nodded again. "I was right. It looks like Bo-Katan's ship… only, different somehow? I'm not sure, I only saw it once."

Seeming to sense the tension he felt, Omera pressed a hand to his chest. Tearing his eyes from the ship as it sank below the treeline to land, he looked down at her. 

"Hey, it's just Cara. She said she was coming alone. We'll be ok, Din."

Releasing a tight breath and bringing his free hand up to cover hers, he tried to calm down. She was right. No matter what news Cara might have, it wouldn’t change anything. Winta was his. In two days, he was marrying Omera. His son was safe with the Jedi. He was still a Mandalorian but for now at least, he was a krill farmer. That was it. Cara wouldn't try to sway him he knew and hopefully Bo-Katan would be smart enough to leave him alone a while longer. 

Winta tugged slightly at his hand to get his attention. She was frowning now too and looked confused. "Daddy... are you ok? I thought you wanted to see Cara?"

He hadn't told her about Bo-Katan or the Darksaber or Mandalore. They had decided it wasn't something she needed to worry about yet. But suddenly it was important and so much sooner than he'd thought it would be. Still not sure how much to tell her, he squeezed her hand and tried to smile reassuringly. 

"I'm ok, Winta. It's just… the ship she's flying reminds me of someone else's. But you don't need to worry about it. Come on, let's go find her."

Her expression cleared and they started off in the direction they'd seen her put the ship down. As they walked, Din reached down to feel the comforting weight of the blaster at his hip. He wouldn't need it, but reminding himself it was there just in case eased his mind.

<>

Cara had landed in the same place Boba had parked the Slave so it was easy to find. By the time they got to the ship, the ramp was lowered and there were two crates stacked beside it. Din powered down the speeder and helped Winta out. When he turned around to inspect the ship, Cara was striding down the ramp.

He walked over to greet her. Smug grin firmly in place, she stuck out her arm and he took it.

"Well… look at you, Din! I gotta say, I like the new look."

He scoffed. "Thanks. It's good to see you too, Cara."

Omera was smiling as she joined them. 

"I've been told I have you to thank for bringing Din home to us." Rather than taking her hand, the two women embraced briefly.

"Thank you, Cara. I'm so glad to see you again my friend."

When she pulled back, the smugness was gone, leaving a genuine smile in its place. "I'm glad to be back. It's been nice having a regular paying gig but I'm due a vacation." 

Noticing Winta where she stood beside Din, she reached out to ruffle her hair. 

"Hey, kid."

Winta patted down her hair and beamed back at her. "Hey, Cara."

"So…" Din tried to keep the frown from his face as he nodded to the ship. "Had a visit from a mutual friend?"

Face contorting with irritation as she looked over her shoulder at the ship, Cara sighed dramatically. "Yes. The day after I got your message actually. Your displaced princess and two of her friends waltzed into my office asking where you were. Apparently she thought you'd had enough time to change your mind. I tried to explain that you were not only  _ not interested  _ but busy too but…" she shrugged. "I ended up having to show her Winta’s holo call to get them to leave you alone."

Din groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. "It's only been a month. I thought I was clear when I explained I wanted no part of that?"

Omera’s hand on his back was soothing and he sighed, crossing his arms. "So she what, leant you her ship? Why?"

"Oh no, this one isn't hers." She scoffed. "Hers is almost twice this size. No. This one, is for you." 

His hands fell to his sides and he turned to stare at her incredulously. "What?"

Laughing without much humor, Cara waved a hand at the ship. "Said it was a 'wedding present.' The Razor Crest was destroyed and you needed a ship. She just happened to have an extra." The look she gave him told him just how much she believed that. 

Giving the ship a second look, Din huffed a laugh. "An extra she thinks she can track I bet."

"Oh of that I have no doubt." 

Hackles immediately rising, he turned back to her. "Then why did you bring it here?"

It was Omera who answered. "Din, if she's as intent on making you do this as she sounds, I doubt it would have mattered. There is more than one way to find someone if you want them bad enough. I'd think you would know that." 

Studying her calm expression, Din knew she was right. If Bo-Katan wanted him found, she wouldn't need a tracking device in a ship to do so. Cara clapped a hand to his shoulder. 

"If it makes you feel any better, I told her if she didn't forget you existed for at least eight months I'd find  _ her. _ " She dropped her hand and smirked. " _ And  _ I stopped by a shipyard I trust on the way here. Had them scan for any obvious devices. She's clean. Unless there's some secret Mandalorian code in the programming we didn't find."

He arched a brow at that. 

"That's right Mr. Mand'alor, this is a MandalMotors Kom'rk class. I hate to admit it but… she's a nice ship."

Well, he didn't exactly  _ need  _ a ship at the moment. Still, he had to admit he would rest easier with a way to transport his family if the need arose. Eyeing her critically, she was a nice looking ship. The body was only a little larger than the Crest had been but the wings extended nearly twice as high into the air, folded up like they were. Flying a Mandalorian made ship did have a certain appeal.

"Are you gonna see inside? Can I come too, Dad? Please?"

Smiling down at his exuberant daughter, Din patted her shoulder and nodded. "Alright. Come on Cara, let's see her."

Omera laughed behind them as they followed Cara up the ramp. It was definitely nicer than the Razor Crest he thought, with only mild irritation. There was plenty of space if they needed to live on it for an extended period of time. Catching himself, Din frowned and shook the idea from his mind. That wasn't their life. They would be safe here. 

"Did she give you a better reason for this than just...a gift?"

Shooting him an exasperated look over her shoulder, Cara shrugged. 

"She knows the Crest was destroyed and thought she would, out of the goodness of her heart, donate one to her fellow displaced Mandalorian. Also, if—though it was heavily implied to be more like 'when'—you decided to take up the  _ glorious _ mantle of Mand'alor you will need a ship to bring your family to Mandalore."

Biting out a humorless laugh and shaking his head, Din watched Winta inspecting the ship. Of course. Would Bo-Katan ever leave him alone? Would his, 'no' ever be enough? He didn't want to fight her. What if she took it too far and killed him? What if he won? Why couldn't the galaxy just leave him alone? 

All he wanted was what he had. Maybe someday when Winta was older they'd venture out into the galaxy, maybe he'd train her, maybe he'd see his son again… Omera crouched beside their daughter and for a heartbeat the fleeting thought of other children tempted. 

If he went to Mandalore, what would happen to his family, those half formed dreams? The very nature of the Darksaber made ownership deadly. How long would he be able to keep any kind of rule, or even his life? He had no idea how much different the wider Mandalorian culture would be to the one in which he'd been raised. After everything he'd learned from Bo-Katan he doubted even the truth of the more recent histories he had learned as a boy. What could a practical outsider have to offer the surviving people of Mandalore?

Then he looked around at the ship. Made on Mandalore. For who? Boba had mentioned the Mandalorian civil wars he’d learned about as a boy. Was this ship part of that? Had it belonged to this faction or that? He knew his people were one of war and battle. When there wasn't somewhere external to vent that power it turned inwards. What kind of life would that be for his family. How could he hope to unite any of them and for that matter, what was Bo-Katan's angle? 

Lost in these thoughts, Din didn't realize Omera watched him back. He didn't see her sympathetic half smile or notice when she stood and stepped into his space. Not until her hands cupped his face did he meet her mildly concerned gaze. 

"Din, love, I can hear you thinking across the ship. What's going on in there?"

His hands gently circled her wrists, holding her there and he turned his face to kiss her left palm. "I wish she would have just taken the damn thing from me when I offered." At her confused expression, he elaborated. "The Darksaber. I don't want this, Omera. Not for myself, not for you… especially not for Winta. I'm sorry, Omera."

"For what, Din?"

He sighed. "For bringing all of this into your life. I'm afraid I'm too selfish to unburden you. I love you too much."

Scoffing softly, she leaned up and kissed him. "If you think I'd let you leave us now, you are as stupid as you are handsome."

The corners of his mouth turned up and he reached down to grab her hips, pulling her close. "I'm glad we're agreed then. Still… doesn't change the circumstances."

She shook her head. "You don’t have to decide anything today, Din. Bo-Katan isn't here. Sure, this ship is as dangerous a bribe as I've ever seen but… Right now just look at it for the convenience it might prove to be. We'll deal with Mandalore when Mandalore comes to bother us. Just know, whatever you decide, Winta and I will be with you, Din."

He kissed her then, unable to think of anything to say to her proclamation. Words he was certainly undeserving of but clung to nonetheless.

"Are they always like this?"

Suddenly remembering they had an audience, they broke apart to see Cara crouched beside Winta. Cara looked amused, Winta was already giggling. 

"Ya, all the time."

Din felt a blush rising to his cheeks but Omera only laughed, not pulling out of his arms. Cara looked like she had a rude comment on the tip of her tongue, if Din was any judge of her many levels of smugness, but she glanced down at Winta and thankfully thought better of it. 

"So, what do you think of her? The ship that is."

Huffing a laugh, he cast his eyes around before looking at Cara. "Well, I can hardly refuse, can I? What do you think, Winta?"

"It's so neat, Dad! You have to keep it!"

Cara grinned and stood, coming to clap both he and Omera on the shoulder. "Great! Oh, you'll have to give me a ride back to Nevarro in a couple of weeks though. Come on Din. Help me get loaded onto the speeder. I have it from a very reliable source that there's a flagon of spotchka with my name on it."


	18. one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Hump Day! Chapter 2 of 3 this week! Wedding day! See notes at the bottom for my explanation of how it goes. So I haven't mentioned but Hannah is me. She is a self inserted author character and my cast for her husband BoJan the beautiful Idris Elba. He just has the bearing I imagine.

**Chapter 18**

**-one-**

Omera rose early on the day she was to marry Din. They would say the Mandalorian vows, but after the fashion of the people of their village. Knowing that she wouldn't see him again until just before dusk, she relished the time in his arms that morning. The air was chill but wrapped together under the thick blankets she wasn't cold. 

When she kissed lightly up the column of his neck, watching him from the corner of her eye, he smiled and tightened his arms around her. 

"Good morning,  _ ner ka'ra _ . How did you sleep?"

She nuzzled her nose into the soft underside of his chin. "I'll sleep better tonight."

"Me too. We still have a while before they bother us, right?"

Laughing quietly, Omera shifted to rest against his chest. "Yes. At  _ least  _ an hour. Although I doubt Winta will sleep that long. She is excited."

When he spoke she could hear the smile in his voice. "I know she is." He kissed the top of her head. "Can we stay like this for a while?"

Humming her agreement, she closed her eyes and drifted off.

Omera wasn't sure how long they'd slept like that. Winta must have decided to let them rest because it was Cara's voice that woke her some time later. She was in their main room, talking to Winta much louder than necessary. 

"So why are they going on a hike?"

Winta laughed at her. "It's not a hike, Cara, it's  _ tradition _ . Because the first man to live here loved the first woman but they lived so far apart and their families were enemies. They only saw each other when they met in secret in the forest. When he asked her to be his wife, they met again in the woods. Setting off alone and saying their vows only to themselves and the trees. 

"Well, the forest was so amazed by their love, it made this clearing for them to live in and opened up the first ponds full of krill so they could eat. Their families saw how the forrest had blessed their marriage and they realized they were being dumb and all moved here together. 

"So now, when anyone gets married they set off alone and meet in the forest. They make their vows to themselves and the trees and then they come back together and we celebrate and eat krill and dance and stuff."

Omera bit back her chuckle at the skeptical tone of Cara's reply and looked up to see Din watching her with a sleepy half smile.

"Is that why we're doing this?"

Sitting up, she gave him a quick peck and nodded. "That's the story and why everyone here does it this way. We should probably get up though before they come and drag us from the bed."

At his immediate alarm, Omera laughed out loud and stood from the bed. "Come on." She reached for his hands and pulled him up too. "The men will be here first. Better dress warmly."

Wrapping her in his arms, he wasn't ready to let her go yet. "Do you have any idea what it is they're going to make me do?"

She reached up to kiss him. "Sorry. Whatever manly things they do on days like this are a closely guarded secret. Not even Hannah knows for sure and her husband, Bojan is in charge of these things. All I can tell you is to try to have fun."

He looked mildly nervous for a moment but he nodded and smiled at her as she left him to get dressed.

Cara was smirking at her when she came out of his room and Winta looked as excited as she had sounded. 

"Have a nice morning, did you?"

"Yes, I did. I slept in. How about you? Did you stay up late gossiping with Tanda last night?" Cara was staying with the older woman and they were getting along famously. At the reminder of her new friend, Cara huffed a laugh and nodded.

"She is something else. I'd tell you what we talked about but…" She nodded at an oblivious Winta. "Lets just say I know more about you people than I ever needed to know. Oh, and I'd recommend investing in some  _ real _ thick shutters. There's a reason for those knowing little smirks she throws around."

Omera’s jaw fell open in indignation. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The other woman arched a brow and smirked wickedly. "So, that wasn't you I heard desperately crying Din’s name last night?"

Winta looked up between them in confusion and stared at Omera as she blushed deeply. "I…" she glanced at Winta before shooting Cara a pointed look. "I am not that loud!"

Cara laughed and ruffled a very confused Winta’s hair. "It was more than a little startling to wake up to your voice in the middle of the night. But hey, I'm a light sleeper."

Shaking her head in exasperation, Omera fled the room to get ready. By the time she was dressed, Din was sitting at the table finishing the last bit of a rushed breakfast. Judging by the color of his neck and ears, Cara had given him the same teasing good morning.

Boisterous conversation and heavy footsteps pulled her attention to the doorway where several men approached. Din stood and turned to her. 

"I'll see you later."

He was still a deep red but he pulled her in for one last kiss anyways. Winta jumped up from her seat to hug him as he turned to leave. 

"Have fun, Dad!"

"You too, Winta."

Once all of the men were gone, Cara folded her arms behind her head and looked at her with interest.

"So, what are  _ we _ doing today?"

"The first bit is my favorite part of other people's weddings." She sat down to eat a bit of the food on the table too. "Your favorite."

Cara sat up, a grin plastered on her face. "Hot springs?"

Omera nearly choked as she laughed around a bite of food. "Yes. Hot springs."

<DO>

Din loved Omera. He wanted to marry her and live here on Sorgan, at least for a time, and make a life here with these people. That was what he reminded himself of as he watched the other men laughing and teasing one another as they stripped down to their under shorts. They were gathered on the banks of the very freezing river with the apparent intention of going for a swim.

Bojan had informed him that the river was freezing all year for some reason they didn't know but this particular activity was especially enjoyable in the winter. Din did not see how that could be possible. 

"You don't  _ have _ to do it, Din if you don't want to." The other man was trying to ease his obvious tension as he tugged off his shirt. "But it's a lot more fun to participate, even if this all seems ridiculous. Honestly, it is. That's why we do it." He slapped his shoulder. "In a community like ours, it's important that we find ways to bond and enjoy ourselves."

Omera’s words from that morning came back to him. Reluctantly, and with a heavy sigh, he uncrossed his arms and reached up to unclip his pauldron. Bojan grinned wickedly at him and turned to toss his clothes over a tree branch. 

Once he was down to his black compression pants, the frigid air bit at him. Running his hands up and down his biceps, Din let out a stream of white breath. Bojan glanced at him sidelong, his dark eyes flicking across the many scars before turning so Din could see his side. An angry red scar that ran from just under his right arm to below the waist of his pants. It was puckered and looked like it might still be painful. 

"About three months before you and Dune showed up we had a particularly nasty run in with those raiders. I would have died if it hadn't been for Omera." Din looked up from the scar to meet the other man's quiet smile.

"She keeps more advanced medical things on hand then most of us do and was able to patch me up. Hannah still gets a bit misty eyed every time she touches it. They got too close to my oldest son and took exception to my intervention."

Something in his intense gaze felt familiar to Din. He reached up and ran his hand along the scars on the back of his head and neck. They were mostly hidden by his hair but judging by the curious look on Bojan's face he could see some of them. 

"Someone tried to hurt my son, too."

The other man nodded solemnly and this time when he clasped him on the shoulder, Din felt the last of the nervous tension leave him. "So. How long do we actually have to stay in there for?"

<>

As the sun began to sink below the trees, Din stepped out of the common hall at the western edge of the village. Several men and a few of the women gathered around him. Din wore a new shirt, this one not borrowed but made for him by one of the older women. He still wasn't sure what he thought about the style the people here favored but as far as they went, it was nice. His pauldron gleamed in the fire light, peeking out from his cowl that he’d wrapped around him for warmth. 

Approaching the edge of the forest, Bojan stood beside the head of a narrow path. His smile was broad and genuine, his voice solemn as he motioned to the trail.

"Follow this north to find your bride. Speak your vows to each other and to the trees and then come home, blessed and as one." 

One corner of Din’s mouth turned up in reply and he glanced over his shoulder. Far on the other side of the village, another small crowd gathered around Omera. Looking back to the woods, he set out, half grin widening in excitement. 

A fine mist swirled around his legs and the bottoms of the trees as he walked. Here and there a torch jutted from the ground to light his way. This was much more intrigue than a typical Mandalorian marriage he knew, but still private and somehow more fitting, his anticipation grew with each step north. 

Eventually the path widened into a small clearing. A large tree with winter-barren boughs reached out over where he stopped and stood. In the falling shadows of dusk, only the flickering of a nearby torch illuminating it, he thought he could understand why someone might believe the trees actually listened. 

A snapping of a twig drew his attention back to the path and his breath caught in his chest when he saw her. She was beautiful. Just as she was everyday, but there was something special tonight. The mist parted around her long skirts as she moved towards him and in the firelight, her skin seemed almost to glow. 

"Omera."

The smile she wore was radiant as she joined him in the clearing, stopping just in front of him. When she breathed out his name he couldn't stop himself from taking her into his arms and kissing her. Satin ribbons were woven into her hair and when he pulled back to look at her, the dark beads that hung around her neck drank in the golden light so that they looked like little bits of flame themselves. 

_ "Mesh'la.  _ You're beautiful, Omera."

"Thank you, Din. You're not so bad either." This time she pulled him down to kiss her. When they finally separated, foreheads pressed together and sharing breath, Omera spoke softly. "Make me your wife, Din."

He was only too happy to oblige. Pulling back only as far as he had to, Din took both of her hands in his and stared down into her eyes. 

"Repeat them back to me." She nodded once and smiled up at him, eager. 

"We are one when together."

"We are one when together. "

To his ear, his own voice wavered but hers was as strong and sure as her gaze. 

"We are one when parted."

"We are one when parted."

Holding her hands, speaking vows to name the bond they already shared gave him a new strength that would last for the rest of his days. 

"We will share all."

"We will share all."

Everything he had, everything he was and would ever be was hers. Here on Sorgan or back in his beskar on Mandalore, he was hers.

"We will raise warriors."

"We will raise warriors."

And it was done. She was his wife and he was her husband and for one moment that felt like a thousand it didn't seem real. The last months had all been a dream and he would surely wake up any second and be back on the Crest, achingly lonely without even truly knowing it.

And then she let out a watery, happy little laugh and threw herself into his arms. Clinging to her, Din thanked the force—that mysterious  _ thing _ that moved around his son in ways he would never understand—for allowing him to be the one to find him. His son, that precious little child that had changed his life and would hopefully find his way home one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I needed a reason for them to get married while alone. The Mandalorian vows feel very private but I couldn't get it to feel natural with them just going off for no reason and doing it alone. So I needed to make up some local reason for it. Is it cliché? Ya. Do I care? na lol
> 
> Also, the part where Din does the polar swim does admittedly feel a little out of character. I wanted him to go for it anyway. he has been there for a while at this point working daily with these men so idk.


	19. firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3!

**Chapter 19**

**-firsts-**

Winta was practically vibrating with excitement. She had never been off world before and even though Din had warned her that Nevarro wasn't that interesting, she couldn't wait to see it. They were only taking Cara home, it wasn't a sightseeing trip. But he supposed for a child that had never seen anything beyond her corner of Sorgan, it was exciting.

As they prepared to take off, Omera sitting beside him in the other seat, Winta hovered behind him taking in everything he did. Even though she was probably too young to teach to fly, he still narrated what he was doing for her. 

"Here, Winta, flip that switch."

She reached over and did as he asked. "What did that do?" 

"Look at this." He pointed to a display screen. "It ran a diagnostic of all life support systems, see it's saying everything is within normal ranges. And that… here push that one."

"The display changed! What's a… vertical thruster?"

"It's part of the propulsion system, it helps us go faster. This is checking all the different thruster engines and propulsion systems. And… they look good. Just one more thing to do before we can go."

"Name her?"

Din smiled at her enthusiasm. Apparently the Death Watch hadn't bothered to register their ships with the Old Republic, the Empire or the New Republic. Like the Crest, this ship was a ghost. Not only was she unregistered, she apparently hadn't seen enough action to warrant a proper name. Either that or Bo-Katan had erased any data before handing her over. He thought the latter more likely, but she couldn't go around called by a factory number. 

He had given it a lot of thought over the last two weeks. Winta thought they should give her a Mandalorian name and he liked that idea. It was thinking about his family, his life here and the future, both with them and for his people that had given him the idea. Maybe it was a little on the nose but Din liked it. Besides, Bo-Katan's  _ Kom'rk _ was called the Gauntlet.  _ Kom'rk  _ was Mando’a for Gauntlet. He was at least more creative than whoever had chosen that.

"Yes." Reaching up to the dash, he punched in the name he'd chosen. 

"Cin Vhetin. What does it mean?"

"Fresh start or… clean slate." Sitting back in his seat, he propped his chin on his hand and waited for their responses. 

Winta looked thoughtful but Omera was smiling across the cockpit at him. "I like it."

"Hmm. I like it too. Cin Vhetin. It sounds cool."

A muffled laugh escaped past his hand and he punched in the commands to make it permanent. "Good. Alright, are you ready?"

Omera laughed and stood, wiping her hands on her pants. "Here, sweetheart. You can sit here and watch, I'll go back and sit with Cara."

She flopped into the other seat with a 'woop' and buckled herself in. 

"Ready, Dad!"

Laughing to himself, he took the controls and they were off.

<>

It was surreal walking through Nevarro without his beskar. He was a known entity as Mando in Nevarro and he didn't want any potential enemies still lurking around the city to connect him to his family or his new ship. Not yet anyway. The last thing he needed was someone recognizing him and following them home. 

But walking through the city where he'd lived for so long as a bounty hunter, where his tribe had hidden, where threats used to lurk around every corner made him deeply uncomfortable. Even though Karga and Cara had cleaned up the city, even though the remnant was gone, he couldn't help looking over his shoulder more than was discreet. 

"Relax Din. Without your beskar you're just another boring human out with his family. No one is looking twice at you."

Cara was right. Even his pauldron was hidden beneath his cloak. Letting out a deep breath, he tried to relax. He watched Omera walking along in front of him seemingly without a care, the blaster strapped to her thigh over her faded olive pants half hidden by her own cloak. After Cara's comment, she looked back at him over her shoulder with a reassuring smile.

Beside him, Winta was gripping his hand tightly as they made their way through the crowd. She was looking all around, taking in everything. He had to slow down as they walked through the market as Winta inspected the wares at each and every stall. When they got to the food vendors, he pointed her towards his favorite. 

"Ooh what are those?"

He smiled and threw a few credits down on the counter. "Spicy fried Qartuum kebabs. Omera, do you or Cara want one?"

They nodded and he added another couple of credits to the pile and took four from the vendor. 

When Winta gave him a dubious look, he huffed a laugh. "Don't worry, they're not too spicy. Here." 

She took one from him and turned it around in her hands. Omera and Cara took theirs and the three of them started eating, all watching Winta expectantly.

Omera groaned around her first bite, drawing Din's attention. "Oh, I haven't had anything like this in  _ years _ ." He ate slowly as he watched her savor every bite, groaning again and licking grease from her fingers. "Dad's right, Winta. It's not too spicy, just perfect."

Remembering where he was, he looked down just in time to see Winta take a tentative bite. At first she looked like she might have liked it. Then the heat hit her and she made a face. Cara and Omera both chuckled. 

"It was good at first…" She fanned her hands in front of her mouth in an attempt to cool it. "But my mouth feels like it's on fire!"

Din smirked, remembering the first time his  _ buir _ had given him something hot and reached for it. When she pulled back and glared at him, her tongue still hanging out, he laughed too. "Winta, you don't have to eat it if it's too spicy."

"No! I want it. I've never eaten anything spicy before."

Holding up his free hand in surrender, he looked around until he saw what he wanted. "Alright,  _ verd'ika,  _ let me get you something to wash it down then." 

Cara saw what he did and beat him to it. "I got it, Din." She pulled out a few of her own credits and brought her a small glass bottle of imported blue milk. "Here kid, nothing goes better with spicy food."

Defiantly taking another bite before accepting the drink, she quickly gulped it down when the spice got her again. "Ahh, thanks, Cara." She looked up at Din with a sheepish grin. "Thanks, Dad."

Smiling around the last bite of his own kebab, Din wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and nudged her on. "You're welcome, Winta. Come on, let's get going."

About five minutes later they were in the main square across from the marshals office when Winta pointed to something across the street with her kebab stick.

"Look! Why is there a giant statue of a droid?"

Cara laughed and Omera squinted at it before turning back to him with a confused frown. "Is that an IG?"

He looked over at it and nodded, a small smile on his face. "Ya. That's the one that saved my life. IG-11. He helped wipe out the Imperial remnant, that's how he got a statue."

Winta tugged on his hand and he looked down at her. "How did he save your life? What happened to it? Is it dead?"

"I was injured and I would have died but he was able to patch me up enough to get me back on my feet. Then he walked through a lava river and blew himself up, taking the last of the stormtroopers with him when we were trapped. Without him, neither Grogu or I would have made it back home."

Pausing on the edge of the street out of the flow of people, Winta stared up at it soberly. "I'm glad he was there then, Dad." She leaned into his side and he patted her back. 

"Ya… me too." Taking his eyes off his suddenly serious daughter, Din looked up at it too. He still didn't like droids, but he was glad he'd met this one. Maybe before they left they could stop by Kuiil's grave. 

"Cara Dune! How was your vacation?"

Karga's booming voice cut across the crowd and all four of them wipped their heads around to see him approaching. Cara smirked and took his outstretched hand. "It was good, Karga. I almost didn't want to come back. But, I brought some friends."

His brows jumped up his forehead and he looked around for someone he recognized before his eyes landed on Winta. Realizing what that meant he noticed Din, arm still around her shoulders. Meeting his amused gaze, Karga's jaw hung open and his voice was an awed stage whisper when he finally spoke.

"Well I'll be damned, is that you Djarin?"

Cara clapped the stunned man on the shoulder. "Let's talk more in my office, ya?

He blinked rapidly and nodded. "Of course, of course."

Thankfully they weren't far so they followed him down the street to the marshal's office. Once they were inside, Karga turned to Din and braced his hands on his shoulders.

"Well, Cara told me you'd taken the helmet off but I must admit I didn't truly believe her. You were willing to die before letting IG take it off to save your life." He laughed. "You're much better looking than I imagined." 

Din rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. 

"It's nice to see you too I guess, Karga."

"He guesses. Nonsense." Still looking surprised, he turned to Omera. "This must be your new bride."

Omera smiled indulgently at Karga as he took her hand. Din introduced her. "This is Omera, my wife. Omera, this is Greek Karga. He runs the bounty guild."

He nodded solemnly and kissed the back of her hand. "Omera. My, I see why our Din was so eager to get home to Sorgan. You are as beautiful a woman as I have ever seen. He is a very lucky man indeed."

She snorted but blushed when she caught the way Din was looking at her. "Thank you, Karga."

Wide grin splitting his face, he finally looked down at Winta. "And this must be Winta. I recognize you from your holo call."

Winta beamed up at him. "Was I blue?"

He laughed jovially. "You sure were. We still have it saved over here, would you like to see it?"

"Oh, yes!"

Cara shook her head and smirked, walking to the opposite side of the office to drop her pack. Leaning against the wall, Din pulled Omera into his arms and they watched Winta exclaim over her hologram self. 

"Wow! I look awesome!" She waved her hand back and forth through the blue Winta’s head and giggled. Karga laughed too. When his eyes drifted up to see Din rest his chin on Omera's shoulder, he smiled fondly at the younger man.

"You know, Winta, I've known your Dad for a very long time. He was my  _ best  _ bounty hunter. It's a shame he's retired. But I can see how happy he is with you and your mother." He sat down in one of the chairs by Cara's desk. "So tell me, Winta, what's he doing to keep busy these days?"

Across the room, Cara muttered, "His wife."

Din scoffed as Karga shook his head. She had made so many veiled references to his and Omera’s frequent love making that he had almost stopped noticing. Besides, she wasn't wrong. Winta, as usual, completely ignored her. "We live in a farming village that raises krill and makes spotchka. It's pretty boring but Cara says the spotchka's good."

Turning wide and hopeful eyes to Cara, Karga held out his hands in supplication. "Spotchka brewers? Cara, please tell me you brought some with you?"

Smirking, she crossed her arms. "You bet I did."

A pleased laugh echoed around the room as he turned back to Winta. "So, has Din taught you how to play sabacc yet?"


	20. brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is shorter than normal so sorry about that but... well you'll see. *evil smirk* The time in this chapter is a little confusing but Thursdays chapter should clear it up.

**Part Three**

**Chapter 20**

**-brothers-**

She had felt it the moment her brother's life had ended. It wasn't because of the  _ force _ or anything so asinine. No… that was wrong. As a Twi'lek she understood that the force was very real and powerful. Many of her people were quite sensitive. Just not her. Regardless, that invisible mystery hadn't been what told her that Qin was dead. He was her brother—her twin—and since birth they had shared a bond much deeper than most could understand. 

Sitting in a New Republic cell with the other useless morons she’d taken up with, she had felt a part of her very soul leave her body. It had felt like dying herself. And as the other two idiots in her cell watched her writhing and screaming on the cold, hard floor, she knew exactly who was responsible for her pain.

To be fair to Mando, they had double crossed him first. It had been uncharacteristically stupid of him not to expect it but still. Perhaps his little green pet was making him soft. She had begrudgingly admitted that she was impressed with how easy it had apparently been for him to escape and round them all up one by one. He had always been good. But despite that small amount of respect and the desire she’d once had for him, Xi'an would never forgive him for murdering her brother. 

It was on this that her thoughts dwelt as she was processed by the New Republic officers. Revenge darkened her mind as she was shipped off to a prison labor planet. Every day spent toiling, every night spent sleeping on hard ground, every moment that she drew breath, Xi'an imagined all the ways she would like to make the Mandalorian suffer. 

Languishing for months on that labor planet, she had plenty of time to plot. When she had known him before, Mando had seemed so impenetrable. It had been two years after the Empire purged Mandalore and however he had survived, there had been an anger, a darkness to him that had drawn her. He, of course, had soundly rebuffed her advances but it never stopped her from trying. It had been an amusing few years.

If she had wanted to hurt him back then, Xi'an wouldn't have known what to do. Sometimes it had seemed like he would have welcomed death, the way he constantly threw himself into danger. Pain seemed to have had little effect on him too. A well placed blaster bolt or hard driven blade would have been as interesting as it would have gotten. 

Now though. Mando had exposed a part of himself that he'd either not had before or kept well hidden. That little green baby… He had tried to play it off like he was just something to pass the time, but she had seen right through him. He had a heart under all that armor and it was tender and attached. 

Perhaps, if she ever managed to escape, she might rip that soft, feeling heart right out of his chest. That had reminded her of her long murdered mother. She had been fond of saying that Xi'an and Qin were little pieces of her heart, walking around outside of her body. It was sentimental drivel but… perhaps it wouldn't require so much effort to destroy Mando. 

She needed to escape. Now that her twisted imaginings were more than half formed plans, it was intolerable to imagine him escaping her justice. So she watched—the guard droids, the handful of live New Republic officers that came and went, the rotations and the other criminals. She would need more competent allies this time. 

More long months went by as she plotted and chose the best villains her prison had to offer. Fortunately there was no shortage of vile bastards at her disposal who would have no problem hurting children. Team chosen, Xi'an waited for the right moment to strike. 

<>

Truthfully it had been too easy. Droids weren't hard to deal with if you knew how and all they had to do after that was wait for the next New Republic shuttle to drop down. She had fashioned rough knives out of the scrap heaps and they had been incredibly effective. Still, it had been wonderful to reclaim her belongings from the prison storage after they'd destroyed the droids on duty there. Holding her favorite vibro in her hands, she was nearly euphoric imagining how it would feel to plunge it into Mando's heart.

Unfortunately, escaping had proven the easy part. Finding a Mandalorian that did not want to be found was much harder than she had anticipated. She and her new crew did paying jobs as they searched for him in all the places she could imagine he might go. Someone in Mos Eisley had seen a Mandalorian a time or two but it had been months. 

It had been tempting to kill the mechanic, she knew in her gut that the woman wasn't telling them everything, but she wasn't someone whose death would go unnoticed. Either way, the word around the town corroborated her story. Mando had been to Mos Eisley, more than once since Xi'an had seen him, but the trail was cold on Tatooine. 

Remembering how he'd been on the outs with the bounty guild, Xi'an reached out to a few contacts there. The hunters she knew would have been more than happy to kill the Mandalorian, but the man in charge of the guild had forgiven him their differences and was apparently a true ally. A tracking fob would have made things easier but without guild help, they were difficult to come by. 

It was fortunate, as she grew increasingly frustrated with her search, that her new crew worked so well together. They might have abandoned her once she'd sprung them but there was little shortage of underhanded work to be had and the promise of a beskar payday was too tempting to pass up. 

Finally, she found a lead. Nearly a year and a half after her brother's death. In a seedy backwater planet near old Hutt space, she came across a New Republic officer willing to take a bribe. Since Mando had at one point or another had a warrant for his arrest, now somehow forgiven, they had his chain code. With that information, it would be much easier to obtain a tracking fob. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *evil laughter*burning elmo meme*


	21. family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Just to explain the timeline. The last chapter left off approximately 9 months post season two finale. This chapter picks up approximately four months post season two finale. 

**Chapter 21**

**-family-**

Falling asleep in her husband's arms every night—very often naked—and waking wrapped up in him was something she would never tire of. Watching him work in the village alongside her, watching him move around their home with a quiet comfort, watching him be a father to their daughter who in turn adored him completely, these things filled her with a domestic joy Omera had never known. 

She knew this peace would not last forever. Someday, perhaps soon, they would have to deal with Bo-Katan. Omera knew, even if he was still unsure, that Din would choose to go to Mandalore. Even if the idea of leading his proud and warlike people held no appeal for him at the moment, he was and always would be a Mandalorian. A warrior. 

When she had told him—months ago now—that neither she nor Winta would want to live on Sorgan forever, she hadn’t been lying. With the war over and anyone who might have wanted her dead long gone, there hadn't been any real reason to stay. Not when Winta dreamt of things far beyond krill ponds and basket weaving. 

Sometimes she would wonder about Mandalore and what it would be like there. How long would it take to gather everyone that had survived the purge? Cara had eventually told them everything Bo-Katan had said when she had visited. There were more of their people surviving out there then anyone knew. 

Would they accept Din? Would he ever accept it himself? Privately, Omera believed he had more to offer his people than he believed. But she knew he wasn't ready to hear that from her so she kept her peace. For now, he seemed to be relishing every day of their lives here as much as she was. Perhaps it was because, in their hearts, they both knew it would end.

This particular morning, Omera was relishing her bed and the warmth of her husband. Spring was upon them and that meant krill harvesting. Din seemed to enjoy the uptick in physical activity every day but she missed the ease of winter. She had been so tired lately. 

"Why are your feet so cold?"

His voice rumbled in his chest against her back and she smiled as she rubbed her feet against his shins. He hissed, breath rushing through her hair but he didn't pull his legs away. 

"Honestly. You're so warm everywhere else." 

She laughed out loud at that and wriggled around in his arms to face him. "Do we have to get up? Can't we just lay here all day?"

"I promised Winta I would start teaching her how to throw her knife later." 

"Hmmm ya?"

"She's been doing so well with the other drills we've been working on. I think she's ready." He kissed her nose. "And we have krill to catch before that." He kissed her lips before she reluctantly let him roll out of bed. She groaned and burrowed under the blankets, listening to him as he moved around the room. Several minutes later she felt the bed dip and he was leaning over her. 

"Come on, Omera. If we turn up to breakfast without you Hannah will give me those...  _ looks. _ " He shuddered and she knew he was blushing without looking. "Besides, she'll probably come drag you out of bed herself."

Finally opening her eyes, she smiled at him sleepily and waved him away so she could get up. "You're right. She would absolutely do that."

<>

Breakfast had been a terrible idea. She wasn’t sure what, but something in the mix had turned. Neither Din or Winta seemed bothered as they ate with annoying gusto but she couldn’t stomach it. Beside her, Din eyed her with mild concern as she picked at a slice of oat bread. 

"Are you alright? Do you want something else?"

Omera wanted to go back to bed. Instead she smiled at him and shook her head. "I'm fine. There's just something not right about that broth and I'm not in the mood to find out what." When he looked unimpressed with her answer, she reached under the table between them to pat his thigh. "I'm fine, Din."

After several moments of silent contemplation, he seemed to accept her word and went back to eating. Finished first, Winta hugged each of them before dashing off to morning lessons and eventually Omera followed Din and the rest to the krill ponds. 

That was feeling like another mistake. The sun was too bright and the water kept sloshing over the tops of her waders and down her legs and poor, dear Marjai would  _ not _ shut up. Glancing over at Din in the next pond, she briefly wanted to smack him for talking her out of bed.  _ He _ didn't look at all bothered, focusing on his task and only occasionally rolling his eyes at something Stoke was saying to Caben over his head as they worked on either side of him. 

"Omera, are you alright?"

Hannah, likely having noticed the death glares she kept sending Marjai, put herself between them and was looking at Omera critically. Omera sighed heavily and stood, stretching her back. 

"I don't know. I'm awfully tired and…" She glared around her friend at Marjai who was still rambling on about something to anyone who would listen. She sighed again. "Well that's not her fault but… Did you notice anything off about breakfast?"

Expression suddenly turning thoughtful, Hannah shook her head. "No, it was fine to me. Perhaps you just haven't been getting enough sleep?" Raising an amused brow, she shot a glance at Din.

Omera rolled her eyes and bent back to the pond. "I'm sleeping better than I have in years, thank you  _ very  _ much. These last three months have been magnificent. I'm just tired."

Beside her, Hannah smirked but joined Omera at their task. "It has been three months already, hasn't it? And I'm just sure you're getting plenty of  _ sleep _ ." She chuckled. "Still, you're usually so patient when Marjai gets like this. Something  _ must  _ be different. You look ready to take her head off."

Groaning and catching the mischievous glint in Hannah's eye, Omera flicked her hand across the top of the water in her direction. Hannah's indignant squawk turned into hooting laughter that drew the attention of everyone near them. Din was watching them curiously from where he stood. When Omera noticed his eyes on her, she screwed her face up in mock irritation before following her friend into laughter. 

<DO>

"Alright, Din?"

Not taking his eyes off Omera as she walked to the common hall with a few other women, Din nodded vaguely at Bojan. 

"Ya." 

The other man stood beside him, hands on his hips and looked back and forth between Din's tense posture and Omera’s retreating figure. "Ah. First argument is it?"

Finally dragging his attention away from his wife, Din frowned at Bojan. "What? Why would you think that?"

Bojan's smile was amused and a little too knowing. "You have the dazed look of a man attempting to determine what exactly he's done to upset his wife and how best to go about fixing it."

Was she upset? She hadn't been that morning. "No. That's not it. There's just something…" He shook his head. This wasn't really anyone else's business but he was starting to worry. "I've had to sweet talk her out of bed almost every morning for the last three weeks and apparently nearly all the food has gone bad."

When he met his gaze this time, Bojan's brows were halfway up his forehead and his mouth hung open slightly. Before the panic at the other man's stunned expression could fully set in, the shock gave way to boisterous laughter. 

"Oh I think she'll be fine, Din. Though, I'd keep up the sweet talking if I were you." Clapping him on the back, he set off after his own wife with an amused—and slightly sympathetic—expression. 

Now even more confused than before, Din sighed and went in search of his daughter. He had a promise to keep before dinner. Hopefully there would be time to talk with Omera later. 

<DO>

After two days of concerned glances from Din and observant smirks from Hannah, Omera felt like snapping at someone. It didn't help that she was  _ still _ exhausted. Perhaps sensing her mood, Din hadn't tried to coax her into getting out of bed that morning. He'd risen and dressed quietly, only stopping to kiss her shoulder and murmur something that sounded tender in Mando’a before taking Winta to breakfast. She loved that man, even if she wanted to shake him every time he asked if she was alright. 

Sometime later, the bed dipped again. Grumbling, Omera tugged the blanket over her head. "Din, love, please let me sleep! They'll be fine without me for one day."

Distinctly feminine laughter had her groaning. "Oh do stop whining, Omera. For someone usually so observant I'm a little surprised you haven't put your husband out of his misery and told him what's wrong with you. The poor man is terribly worried."

With a long suffering sigh, Omera sat up. "Hannah. Nothing's wrong with me. I'm just tired. Maybe you're right and we're spending more time being active in bed than sleeping and it's just catching up to me."

Hannah snorted. "I'll say." When Omera glared back at her, she rolled her eyes. "Honestly. I have no doubt you're testing that man's endurance as often as you can but it clearly isn't affecting him in the same way."

Not impressed, Omera’s glare didn't falter. "Unless you are going to come out and say whatever it is you’re clearly thinking or bring me something to eat that hasn't gone bad, you can get back to the ponds and let me sleep."

Exasperated, Hannah threw her hands up in the air and huffed. "Omera. You are clearly pregnant, you ridiculous woman!"

For several seconds, she blinked mutely at her friend. Pregnant? She counted weeks. Blushing, she supposed it was possible. Hannah may have been jesting but she hadn't been wrong. They had spent more nights wrapped up in each other than not. Suddenly she was scrambling past Hannah and reaching for a chest under her bed. 

"What are you doing?"

Sliding out the chest, she sat back on her heels and opened it. "I'm looking for… here."

It was one of the few medical tools she had picked up on her way to Sorgan while she'd been pregnant with Winta. When she held it up, Hannah's eyes lit up with recognition. Omera stood and sat back beside her on the bed. 

"Here. I… well it's been long enough since I've… well let's just say if you're right I've been entirely too distracted to notice the obvious signs and we should hear something." 

Hannah sat eagerly at her side. "Din should be here for this, Omera. Bojan always gets so sweet. You'd think after five children he would be less affected but…" 

Omera pulled up her nightgown, thankful she hadn't been naked underneath last night, and laid back against one elbow. Holding the slender device in her right hand, she slid it probingly along her lower abdomen. For a moment nothing happened, and then…

Tears stung at her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as the rapid beating of a tiny heart filled the room. Hannah looked on the verge of tears too as they both tried to speak at once but ended up laughing together. 

"Oh, Hannah! I need to tell Din!"

Her friend pulled her up into a hug before standing from the bed. "I'll get him now. He was so worried about you at breakfast. Oh this is wonderful!"

Hardly able to contain her joy, Omera nodded and waved Hannah away. How should she tell him? Would he be happy too? It was so early, everything about their relationship was so fast but then, Omera had never had any doubts. This was the same. It felt like this was exactly what was supposed to happen.

Adjusting her nightgown, she stood and stepped into the main room just as Din came rushing through the door. He looked mildly panicked. "Omera, are you alright?"

She felt a bit guilty, seeing clearly now how worried he had been. What had Hannah said to him? In three long strides he was across the room and in front of her, hands rubbing up and down her arms. "Hannah said you knew why you've been so… tired." 

A small laugh escaped her and she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. Confused at her complete change in demeanor from when he’d left earlier, it took him a moment to catch up. "Omera…" he kissed her back only once before pulling away slightly, looking even more confused than before. "What's wrong, Omera?"

The happy tears were back all of a sudden and she laughed softly. "Din." She pressed her hands against his chest and his own came up to grasp them. "Nothing's wrong with me. I feel so foolish for not seeing it sooner. It's so obvious in hindsight." His eyes wide and still filled with anxiety, she took pity on him. Ignoring her own nervousness over his reaction, Omera nearly whispered the words. "Din, I'm pregnant."

He looked like he had stopped breathing. Unable to stand the silence, Omera filled it. "I know we haven’t actually talked about this and it's so soon and there's so much about our future that's uncertain but I…"

Suddenly his lips were on hers and he was holding her impossibly close. "Really? Are you sure?" The thread of hope in his voice was so fragile it was almost painful to hear. 

Letting more tears slip free, Omera nodded and reached for his hands. "Yes, I am. Come here." She pulled him into their room and urged him to sit. He looked confused again as she tugged her nightgown off and climbed into bed beside him. 

"I should have noticed the signs weeks ago. But by now," she picked up the monitor with her left hand and reapplied it to her stomach, "we can hear this…" Again the strong, rapid beating of their unborn child's heart filled the room. Omera couldn’t have looked away from his face for anything. 

His eyes misted as wonder replaced the earlier anxiety. Taking her free hand in his, Din brought it to his lips. "Omera, I…" His voice broke and he looked intently at her stomach. 

Setting down the monitor, Omera sat up and reached for his face.

"Are you ok? You're not upset are you?"

Blinking hard, he met her gaze again and shook his head. A smile finally split his face and he leaned in to kiss her. "No. Of course not. Never." He let out a breathy laugh and pulled her fully into his arms. "I'm happy, Omera. So, unbelievably happy." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N So I promise that I am not going to Legend of Korra, Omera. I did not make her an interesting and skilled character just to relegate her to history as DIn's wife and the mother of his children. She IS his wife and she IS the mother of his children but she will still have an important role in the story.


	22. instincts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N About 5 months later. 9 months post season 2 finale. 

**Chapter 22**

**-instincts-**

Din stepped up behind Omera where she stood at the table in their home. He brushed her hair to the side and dropped a kiss to her neck, hands skimming along her sides and around to cover the swell where his youngest child grew. Letting out a content sigh, Omera leaned into him. 

"How was town?"

Din and a few others had taken three barrels of spotchka and a portion of their early krill harvest into town to trade that morning. It had been his turn to go but it had made him anxious leaving her and Winta here. He hadn’t said anything yet, but there was something in the air that set his teeth on edge. Something was coming for their peace. 

Cara said she had warned off Bo-Katan for eight months when she’d visited. It had been eight months. Perhaps that was all it was. Now that Omera was pregnant, he just wished he could hold her off at least for another few months. 

It didn't help any that Winta seemed to be struggling with the idea of a new baby. She had been happy about it at first, but recently she had been acting out. Din wasn’t sure if that was the only reason but Hannah had assured them that it was completely normal. 

"It was town. It was uneventful. Where's Winta?"

Omera turned to look back at him over her shoulder. "She came home after lessons but didn't stay for lunch. I think she is with the other children."

He pursed his lips and looked out the window. The sounds of children playing could be heard but he couldn't see them. "You think that's where she is? Are you sure?" He had managed to keep his voice even, but something of the tension he felt must have bled through. Omera turned to him fully, her face a mask of concern. 

"Din, is everything alright?"

Sighing, he hung his head. "I… something's just… I feel so anxious. I hated to leave you today." Rubbing at his chest, Din looked back out the window. "I feel like I need to have eyes on you both all the time or else…"

She put a hand on his cheek and forced him to look at her. "Or else what, Din?"

Kriff. He shouldn't have said anything. She looked so worried now and it was probably just down to Bo-Katan. Pressing his forehead to hers, he tried to calm down before he answered. "It's probably nothing. I guess I'm just expecting the Gauntlet to drop out of the sky any day to haul me away to Mandalore."

Her thumb traced along his cheek for a moment before she spoke again. "You know you aren't going to lose us just because you decide to go with her, Din. We go where you go. But if it would make you feel better, go find Winta. I'm sure she would like to spend some time with you."

It made his heart ache just a bit when she echoed the familiar sentiment. This was different, he had to remind himself. Omera was his wife, Winta wasn't force sensitive like Grogu and this baby wouldn't be either. He wouldn't have to give them up to a stranger. They  _ would _ always go where he did. 

"Alright. I'll find her. Maybe we can practice more. She's getting good with my smaller knife." Momentarily distracted, a smile almost formed. Winta wanted to be like him someday, 'a warrior.' It made him proud how seriously she took their lessons. "I should probably start her on moving targets." 

She leaned up and kissed him before sending him on his way. He looked back over his shoulder at their home twice as he walked towards the sounds of children. The feeling of something just not quite right still twisted infuriatingly at the edges of his senses. 

It got worse when he didn't find Winta among the other children. Hannah's daughter Nya said she had been in a foul mood and gone off to play by herself some time ago and pointed in the direction she'd gone. Trying very hard not to let his mounting worry get the better of him and failing, he scanned for her mop of wild curls as he neared the edge of the village. 

"Winta?"

When she poked her head up from a patch of tall wild flowers, brown eyes wide, Din let out a painful rush of relieved breath. 

"Winta, I was so… why are you hiding out here?"

She stood when he came over to her, gathering her in his arms. "I wasn't hiding. I just didn't want to play with the other kids."

Breathing hard as he tried to calm his ridiculous fears and keep the tension from his voice, he held her at arms length so he could look at her. "Don't do that, please. I couldn't see you behind the tall grass. I don't want to…" He pulled her back into a tight hug as other memories of Tython flashed through his mind and the thought of something happening to her too nearly made him sick. "I can't go through that again, Winta."

Her skinny arms came up to hug him back. "What do you mean, Daddy? Is something bad going to happen? Are we not safe?"

She only ever called him that when she was scared or feeling particularly sweet. Din felt terrible knowing his irrational paranoia had frightened her. Taking a deep breath, he kissed the top of her head and pulled back, forcing a smile. 

"No,  _ verd'ika _ , we are safe. Nothings going to happen. I'm sorry if I scared you. I just… well." Words failed him. What could he tell her? That his instincts were screaming at him to watch and protect when there weren't any real threats? That sometimes he would dream he was back on Tython only instead of Grogu being taken by droids, Winta or an infant with dark hair and Omera’s chin were carried off by Jedi in Mandalorian helmets and he was  _ always _ too slow to save them? 

"It's ok. You're safe, Grogu is safe, your mother and the baby are safe. Everyone is ok."

She nodded but he didn't miss the flicker of annoyance when he mentioned the baby. It didn't linger but she couldn’t hide her emotions from him. Grateful for something else to think about, he decided to ask her about it.

"Winta, you know… it's ok if you have…" What had Hannah said? "Negative feelings about the baby. It's a big change. We can talk about it if you want."

Huffing a grumpy sigh, Winta crossed her arms and looked up at him skeptically. "Are you sure?" At his encouraging nod, she flopped down to sit in the grass again. Taken aback for a moment, Din blinked down at her before sitting too. "I already  _ have _ a little brother and you got rid of him. Are you just replacing Grogu? Will you still love me as much now that you're gonna have a  _ real _ kid or are you gonna send me away too?"

Din’s heart broke a little that he must have somehow given her cause to doubt him. The way she stared at the ground, refusing to meet his eye as she waited for his reply to so many hurtful questions tore at him. Wanting to assuage her fears and reassure her but not knowing where to start, he swallowed down the tightness in his throat and tried to speak.

"Winta…" when his voice betrayed him, she finally looked up. She looked so insecure again and not knowing what else to do, he pulled her into his arms. She didn't fight him but she didn't hug him back this time either. 

"What have I ever done to make you doubt me like that, Winta? You  _ are _ my kid. Remember? You may not share my blood like this baby but you're  _ mine _ . Do you hear me? Nothing is  _ ever _ going to change that. And I'm not sending you anywhere, not ever." He let out a shuddering breath. "You go where I go." 

She nodded against his chest and  _ finally  _ slid her arms around his neck. "What about Grogu? Do you still love him the same too? Can he still come home someday even though we have another baby?"

Pulling her back just far enough to look seriously down into her eyes, he sighed. "I didn't send him away because I stopped wanting him with me, you  _ know _ that. I wish he was here with us every  _ single _ day and if it was safe, if I could give him what he needed, he would be. I will always love Grogu and want him with me just like I will  _ always _ love you and want you with me. No matter how many new babies or foundlings or… entire planets full of people I have in my life that won't ever change."

Din nearly toppled over with the force of it when she threw herself back into his arms, hot tears wet on his neck and shirt. 

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I… I shouldn't have thought those things. You've just been so happy about Momma being pregnant and… Nya said whenever her Momma has a new baby it's like they forget she exists sometimes and then I was thinking about Grogu and how he's still a baby and you sent him away and I just got worried you'd forget about me too." She sobbed a little as she tried to breathe and he rubbed her back while she calmed herself. 

Wiping her face on his shirt, she sat back and looked sheepishly into his eyes. "I'm sorry. You're not mad at me, are you?"

Letting out a watery laugh, Din shook his head. "No. No, I could never be mad at you for something like that, Winta. But, you should probably apologize to your mother when we get home too. She thinks you're upset with her a bit, I think. Here…"

He briefly pressed his forehead to hers before dropping a kiss to the top of her head and standing. Grabbing her hands, he pulled her to her feet. "Come on, Winta. Do you want to go practice with your knife some more? I think you are ready for moving targets." 

All traces of tears vanished and her eyes lit up. " _ Moving  _ targets! Do you really think I'm ready, Dad?"

He laughed, properly this time, and nodded at her. "Sure do. Come on, let's go."

<DO>

After Din had shared his almost instinctual fears with her, Omera couldn’t think of much else. Because he had been so concerned about finding Winta, she had been anxious too until they'd come home long enough to grab his knife and a few other things. 

He hadn't elaborated but the two of them had apparently had a conversation about big feelings and the baby. Winta had told her she loved her and given her a hug without avoiding her stomach for the first time since it had become noticeable. Then the pair had dashed off to their usual place to practice. 

She knew Winta would be safe with Din, but now that he had said something, it wouldn’t leave her alone. He had said it was probably just worry over Bo-Katan's impending interruption to their life and Omera believed him. Unable to help it, she caught herself watching the sky as she went about the rest of her day. 

When she finally realized she was pregnant five months ago, she had estimated she was nearly two months along. That meant by now she only had another three or so to go. They had been lucky to have nine months of peace, so much could happen in that amount of time. Would they have to leave soon? If they did, would it be safe? Would he have to leave then for a time and come back for them if it wasn't? 

They had said they would stay together, but she knew Din wouldn't want to risk taking the three of them into a dangerous situation. Part of her hoped they would have longer. Part of her wanted to rip the plaster off if only to  _ know _ exactly what they’d be getting into. 

As it neared dinner, Omera stepped out to make her way to the common hall in time to see Din and Winta returning. He was carrying her on his back, her legs swinging back and forth in front of him as they both laughed about something. When they caught sight of her, Winta leaned up to wave, nearly causing Din to lose balance. Omera was just about to walk to meet them when the sound that they had been dreading roared overhead. 

A ship nearly identical to Din’s  _ Cin Vhetin _ but more than twice the size dropped into the atmosphere. As large as it was, they would have to land farther away from the village. Tearing her eyes from the Mandalorian harbinger, she looked to her husband. Grim determination had replaced his laughing smile and it broke her heart. It also filled her with pride.

Looking back at her, he stared at her for a long, solemn moment. She gave him a firm nod and with the  _ barest _ upward twist of his lips, he nodded too. They all went inside. It could take hours for their visitors to breach the edge of the village and they would spend every minute they had left together. 


End file.
